


Day of the Jaguar

by WallaceAndGromitGirl



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Kidnapping, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 31,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallaceAndGromitGirl/pseuds/WallaceAndGromitGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After ten years of imprisonment, a forgotten enemy of the Sanchez clan has plans for revenge of the darkest kind. His return sends Manolo and Maria on a race against time through a perilous jungle, on the trail of an ancient myth as they try to save the thing they love most before she vanishes forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Manolo felt the arrival of the visitor before he heard it. A slight yet sudden chill, and then a ripple in the air and the soft flap of feathered wings.

He did not storm downstairs into the parlor with swords drawn, as his instincts told him to do. Instead he remained in the library armchair where he sat, crossing one leg over the other and glowering at the door. The gods were going to come to him for once, whether they wanted to or not.

A few minutes passed in silence before a set of heavy footsteps strolled up the stairs and down the hall, stopping in front of the double doors. The knocks on the wood were hesitant, even as they reverberated through the room. “I know you’re in there, Sanchez.” He had not bothered to disguise his voice this time.

“You’re not dead yet. Open it yourself.”

The doors creaked inward slowly, as though trying to put off the inevitable. They revealed not Xibalba’s natural form, nor the wizened one he often took in the Land of the Living. He was tall, brown-skinned and sharp, dressed in a purple suit and drumming his fingers on the top of his two-headed walking stick. His long white hair was pulled back into a ponytail, while his beard and mustache were as neatly trimmed as ever. He had tried to make his eyes brown, but flashes of red still glimmered through. The only movement in his placid face was a slight twitch of his lip as he saw Manolo. “Pleasure to see you again.”

“You’re lucky Maria isn’t home,” the other man answered. “You wouldn’t have made it past the parlor.”

“No, I suppose not.” The god made an attempt at a smile. “I suppose you know why I’m here, boy.”

“I can think of one reason why you ought to be here.” Standing up, Manolo began walking towards him.

“La Muerte sent me,” Xibalba continued. “She says the Candle Maker happened upon something troubling in the book, and that someone should - “

“You know what you did, Xibalba.”

The god bristled and glared back at him. “You think I let that happen on purpose? We all make oversights, you know. I can’t be bothered to…”

His vision flashed and turned white as Manolo drew back a fist and punched him in the jaw as hard as he could. Xibalba stumbled backwards and slumped against the wall, bruises already forming as he blinked rapidly. Holding his face with both hands, he shifted and snapped his bones back into place. “She said you would do that…”

“Did you know there was a chance they would escape?” Manolo snarled, towering over him. “Did you have any idea what you would do if they did?”

“I didn’t think they would - “

“Did you?!?” Grabbing Xibalba by the collar, he hoisted him to his feet and drew back his fist again.

“Don’t touch me again!” Xibalba shouted back, pulling himself free of the mortal’s grasp. “Now, mind your manners and perhaps I won’t tell our friends up in Aztlan about all this.”

“What do they want with me now?”

“They sent me here to give you fair warning.”

“Pueden ir follar ellos mismos.”

“For goodness sakes, Manolo, I’m trying to help you! They’re angry! You can’t just kill a god and walk away from it like nothing happened!”

Manolo remained still for a moment, his breaths heavy as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Turning on his heel, he paced back and forth across the room a few times before stopping in front of the window. “Do you have children, Xibalba?”

“What does that have to do with this business?”

“Answer me and I’ll tell you.”

Xibalba sighed and rubbed his face as he leaned against a bookshelf. “I used to have some. Wouldn’t do it again, though. Far too much work. Always getting themselves into trouble…”

“But you loved them anyway. And you would do anything for them.”

“As close I can come, I suppose.”

Manolo was slow to turn back around. When he did, Xibalba could see that his eyes were red and splotched with past tears. “Sit down.”

Xibalba raised a wary eyebrow. “Why should I?”

“There’s something you need to see.” He gestured to one of the armchairs, and as Xibalba reluctantly sank into it, he went to pull open the drawer of a nearby side table. A moment of searching brought forth a small bundle wrapped in tissue paper, which he pressed into Xibalba’s hands before sitting down himself.

“What’s this?” Xibalba asked, inspecting it with an air of suspicion.

“Open it.”

The god started to roll his eyes as he pushed away the folds of the paper, but stopped when he saw what they concealed. There was a scrap of pale yellow cloth, covered in dirt and shredded nearly to ribbons by sharp claws. Beside it sat a pair of broken black spectacles: the frame bent almost beyond recognition, one lens cracked and the other gone but for a few shards of glass.

“I know you met her once,” Manolo said, his voice now barely above a whisper. “She told me.”

“I didn’t know…”

“Did she deserve it?”

Xibalba didn’t answer.

“She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose.” Manolo’s eyes glazed over, as though he was watching a memory. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile before violently twisting back down, and his voice emerged as a choked sob when he tried to speak.

Xibalba placed the bundle back in the man’s lap, not sure what else there was to do. “La Muerte didn’t tell me what exactly was in the book.”

“Then I suppose we have quite a bit to learn from each other.” Placing the bundle aside, Manolo leaned back in his armchair and looked at his visitor. “Tell me what you know, and maybe I can fill in the rest.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ten years. Thousands of days. Endless hours and moments. Each and every one cut like the sharpest knife.

The centuries of imprisonment before had been easy compared to this, the jaguars thought. Back then, they had been too broken to remember how it felt to be fed and powerful. A proper king had locked them away, not some arrogant usurper, and not for the sake of the lowly creatures which had been made to be ground into the dust. They screamed and rattled their chains at the thought, and the piercing noise bounced off the cold, granite walls of the pitch black pit.

Pax merely growled in his throat. It would not do to waste valuable power now, not when they were so close. The power Mictlan had granted him was draining away with each careful spell: even now he could feel it flowing out of him, dulling his senses. _No. You must focus._ He closed his eyes and began to mutter incantations under his breath. Dipping his paw in the pooling blood from a still-warm corpse beside him, he started to draw. _The veil between worlds is thin tonight,_ he thought. _At last we shall break it._

The walls and floor around him were dark with the dried, flaking shapes painted in blood. Jagged, frenetic glyphs that shook and curved, spiraled and repeated. Ten times the jaguar had drawn the same symbols over one another, a spell that grew more powerful with each passing year. With the fresh blood, he drew people: standing, sleeping, all screaming. They looked above them, where he had drawn the pack prowling as in the old days.

“Hear me, mortals,” he whispered, his voice low and guttural. “When you think of those you have lost on this Day of the Dead, you shall think of us as we once were and as we shall be once again. _You shall remember us.”_

The walls shook. The floor began to crack, shattering the bloody images of those who had wronged him. He could almost feel the chains grow weak as power surged through his veins.

Miles above, mortals who slept began to struggle and cry out. Those who were awake started and looked around in fear, not sure what they were looking for. They were only vaguely aware of the hellish images which invaded and retreated from their minds in sudden flashes: sharp teeth, glowing eyes, red moonlight. _Beware,_ their thoughts told them even as the nightmares slipped back into distant memory. _They are coming._

The jaguar pack grew more alert, eyes growing wide as they sniffed the air. They could feel the power as well, and they roared with glee as they pulled against their restraints. “Patience!” Pax growled at them. “The mortals shall do the work of freeing us.”

There was a sudden thunderclap, and the world went silent. For a fleeting moment, the darkness seemed not to come from lack of light but from lack of anything. Pax felt his stomach lurch, as though he was being pulled up and forward. The chains on his wrists burned, and then they were no more.

He breathed in and found the scents he had nearly forgotten: dirt, night air, jungle flowers, the fear of dull-minded prey. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a clearing framed by dark green foliage and bathed in moonlight. A river ran somewhere in the distance, and the hum of birds and insects filled the air.

With more thunderclaps and flashes of light, the rest of his pack shimmered into view around him. They roared and stretched their weary limbs, rolled about in the dirt or prowled around the clearing with bared teeth.

“I think I smell that fool Huitzil,” one of them said, making all except Pax laugh at the thought. “Come, let us pay him a visit!”

“Stay your claws,” Pax commanded, causing them all to cower. “I shall seek out our first prey.”

“And what shall that be?” one of the creatures asked.

“Mortal flesh.” He dropped to all fours, his claw-tipped fingers morphing into cat paws, then looked to the moon with gleaming eyes and smiled. “We must find San Angel.”

* * *

“That was months ago.” Manolo’s face was beginning to harden again. _“Months_ ago.”

Xibalba resisted the urge to squirm in his chair and shrugged instead. “The guards told me things were under control.”

“And you didn’t think to see if that was true?”

“There are some places where even gods ought not to venture, boy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Oh, please. Thirty-one’s hardly a blink when you put it in perspective.”

Manolo continued to glare at the god but didn’t move. “That spell. What was it?”

“Something my brother taught them, most likely,” Xibalba answered. “It’s meant to put thoughts in people’s heads. Works best if you attach it to some other thought. So while you and the rest of your little mortal friends were in the…” He trailed off as Manolo began to lean forward.

“Are you saying,”  the man hissed quietly, “that I had a hand in what was done to my daughter?”

The god remained silent.

“Go on,” Manolo snapped, crossing his arms and keeping his eyes locked on his visitor. “You can say it if you want. You’d be right.”


	3. Chapter 3

**_“Papa!”_ **

_**“Ofelia?”** He stumbled back and forth, his head whipping around as he tried to make sense of the darkness surrounding him. _

**_“Papa, help me!”_ **

_**“I’m coming! Just stay where you are!”** He stumbled forward, feeling his way through the darkness. Dirt and leaves crunched beneath his feet, and sharp branches cut into his face. Through the leaves, he thought he could see a faint red light glimmering from far away._

_Suddenly there was a thunderclap, and the light surged into a blinding, bloody glare as a scream of fear and pain pierced the silence. He tripped as he skidded to a stop and fell to his knees, then immediately scrambled back to his feet and ran. **“Mija!”**_

_He didn’t get far. A massive, hulking form burst out of the foliage with a roar and knocked him over, digging its claws and teeth deep into his flesh._

Manolo bolted upright, throwing off his bedsheets as he gasped for breath and clutched at his throat. The tightness in his chest gradually uncoiled as his eyes darted around, taking in what little light there was in his bedroom. The clock on the wall showed half past two. On the other side of the bed, Maria was turning back and forth in her sleep with a small frown on her face. The dream must not have gotten to her yet that night, Manolo thought. She wouldn’t have fallen back asleep.

He carefully got out of bed, putting on his slippers and lighting a candle as he stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Holding up the light, he crept towards the end of the corridor. The small door on the left stood slightly ajar, and hints of candlelight came from within.

With a shaking hand, Manolo pushed the door open. “Ofelia?”

She was curled up beneath her covers, a candle by her bed and a book lying open across her chest as she slept. Her glasses were still on her face, sliding down her nose, and her dark curls were being ruffled by the cool gusts of air from the open window.

_I’ll have to talk to her about that in the morning._ Manolo put down his own candle and shut the window, then put Ofelia’s book away and straightened her covers. He lingered a moment once he was done, sitting on the bed’s edge and running a hand through his daughter’s hair. “Ay, _mija…”_

A scream from across the hall jolted him back to reality - Alejo’s typical cry for help. _Ah, well. I wasn’t expecting to sleep through the night anyway._

The night turned into day, and the hours rolled past like cogs in a clock. Breakfast was a quiet affair that morning, as it often became. Maria hummed as she set down a bowl of greens for Chuy and mashed up some avocados for Alejo. Manolo blinked rapidly and shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind as he stirred his eggs and rice with a fork.

“I think you might need to get Ofelia,” Maria remarked, glancing towards the dining room doorway.

“I’m here, Mama.” The girl walked quietly into the room, already dressed and rubbing her bleary eyes. She smiled at her parents and brother as she sat down but said hardly more than a word: her gaze wavered between her plate and some point off in the distance as she ate.

Manolo cleared his throat. _“Mija,”_ he began, “I have a few things I’d like to talk to you about.”

For the first time in days, Ofelia perked up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Your window was open last night.”

Her smile instantly faded. “Oh…I guess I forgot to close it.”

“That’s alright. Just keep a better eye on it from now on?”

She frowned. “But it’s summer.”

“We’ll work something out, mija. Maybe put a screen up.”

Ofelia resumed picking at her breakfast. “Why don’t you like my window being open?”

Manolo froze and bit his lip, having no answer for the question he had anticipated. “Well…you see…”

Then, as luck would have it, Alejo chose that particular moment to let out a shriek and knock the bowl of avocados onto Chuy’s head.

“Now,” Manolo said, sinking back into his chair after several minutes of mess-cleaning and pig-wrangling. “There was something else I…”

But Ofelia had already slipped away.

He groaned, resting his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. “What am I going to do, Maria?”

His wife looked at him askance as she sat down beside him. “Go upstairs and talk to her.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Maria sighed and shook her head. “She’s a smart girl, we both know that. She’d understand if you just said why we’re worried about her.”

“That’s the problem,” Manolo answered. “I don’t even know what it is.”

* * *

_At least the library’s quiet,_ Ofelia thought. And yet it still didn’t feel right.

She was sprawled on the sofa near the large window, trying to stir up interest in the book she was leafing through. She had shut the doors behind her, a rare thing: as long as she could remember, they had stood open at all hours of the day. Perhaps it didn’t matter anymore. Hardly anyone crossed had its threshold in the past months. Vicente and Gabriela always took to playing outside during the summer, and her parents…it seemed as though her parents were too busy for anything besides working and looking after Alejo. She saw them at meals, of course. Sometimes in the evenings. Whenever they needed her help with something. Whenever they saw the need to shoo her away from something harmless…

The girl sighed. _I wish things could be the way they were. Just for a day._

**_I could offer you more than that._ **

Ofelia bolted up, dropping the book. “W-Who are you?”

**_You will know me in time,_** the voice in her head replied with a hint of a growl. **_Soon you and I will meet properly._**

“…I don’t know if I want to.”

**_I mean you no harm, little one. I come bearing a great gift. Much will be asked of you in the coming days, and much will be rewarded. A life of happiness and a family that will love you without fail. You shall never want for love._** The sudden jab of what felt like sharp claws abruptly dug into her arm. **_You need only be ready for us when we come for you._**

_Go away!_

“Ofelia?”

She opened her eyes and looked up. In the doorway stood her father, a hand on the doorknob as he watched her with concern. “Are you alright?”

She blinked a few times, trying to breathe properly again. _“Si,_ Papa.”

Manolo looked confused but forged ahead anyway. “I wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened downstairs. And there was something else I meant to tell you.”

“What?”

“Señor Alvarez told me he’s expecting a new shipment of books this afternoon,” he replied. “He said you’re welcome to help sort through them - you can have some if you do. Shall we go down there, _mija?”_

She felt her arm, where the phantom scratches still stung. “I’d like to.”

* * *

The water of the lake churned as the invisible god swam back to shore. The rest of the jaguars gathered at the shore as Pax dragged himself back onto land. “Did you find the girl?” one of them asked.

“Yes. She will resist, I can sense it.”

“Why this one?” one of his men growled. “All these months of hunting when we could take whatever child we wish!”

“Because she was born of our enemies’ triumph,” Pax answered, glaring at him, “and thus we shall right that wrong through her.”

“What if she proves too strong?”

“Weakness is in her nature. She is only human.” He looked back towards the island. “But she will turn one way or another.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this up earlier, but 1) my school workload has been massive recently and 2) the exposition segment of this is taking longer than I thought it would. But I promise you that everything will go to hell in the next chapter. For now, enjoy these last moments of light before shit gets dark.

Gabriela might have collapsed in the street and pretended to die if she thought she could get away with it. “Why do we have to carry these?” she snapped, kicking a rock as she fumbled with the parcel in her arms.

“You know why,” her mother answered. The state of the curtains which Señor Alvarez had brought to her from his bookshop had been that which only her twins could aspire to inflict. Fixing them had taken her nearly three days each. It was only proper that Vicente and Gabriela should be the ones to return them, along with a good apology. “Have you thought of what you’re to say to Señor Alvarez?”

The twins glanced about the street, looking for a way to slip free of the question. It was Vicente who found one. _“Amiga!”_ he shouted, hurrying towards the two figures emerging from between two nearby houses. _“Hola,_ Ofelia!”

The girl’s face brightened considerably as she made her way through the throng of townsfolk towards him. _“Hola,_ Vin. I thought you were still grounded.”

He smiled sheepishly. “We are…”

“They’re helping me run an errand,” Ixa added as she approached them. _“Vamos, mijo.”_

“Where are you going?”

“Just a delivery for Señor Alvarez.”

“You can walk with us if you’d like,” Manolo told them. “He asked for help sorting the new books.”

A devious grin spread across Gabriela’s face. “That could be our apology, Mama! Don’t you think so?”

“What do you - “

“Señor would be pleased if we helped him with his work,” the girl explained. “And Felia can show us what to do if we need help. Right, Vin?”

Her brother nodded eagerly at the prospect. _“Si.”_

“It ought to be for our friends to decide,” their mother answered. “Manolo?”

Manolo frowned. “I’m not sure if…” He trailed off as he noticed Ofelia, whose expression was brighter than he had seen it in quite a while. “Well, I suppose it depends on what she thinks.”

The girl nodded. “You can help if you want.”

“Why don’t you come with us?” Manolo asked Ixa as he turned back to her. “We haven’t talked much lately.”

“Of course.” Ixa glanced at the twins again. “As long as you’re both serious about this…”

* * *

“So this is where we’ll put the fun books, and this is where we’ll put the boring books. And _this,”_ Gabriela said as she snatched away the Henty which her brother had been peering through, “goes in with the rest of the pig feed.”

“Hey! There’s nothing bad about it!” Vicente snapped, trying to steal it back.

“Then why does the boy get to marry the girl just because he saves her?”

“You just say that because…”

Their mother shot a glance at them from across the room and cleared her throat, which made them fall silent. Satisfied, she nodded to herself before resuming her conversation with Manolo.

“I’ll show you where Señor likes everything,” Ofelia said, trying not to roll her eyes as she sat down between the twins. “Then you’ll find it a place.”

The little bookshop near the docks, a recent addition to San Angel fueled by the trends which Maria had carefully set, had closed and locked its doors for the afternoon. Inside, half a dozen crates sat amidst the sparse bookshelves. Once the adults had pried off the lids, the containers’ contents were handed over to the children. Ofelia did much of the work at first. Immediately she set about retrieving one book after another, deftly unwrapping each one and flipping through their pages in search of creases and tears. Vicente and Gabriela followed her lead, never as quick but soon almost as attentive. Eventually it was like a game, uncovering the mysteries of the tomes before them: their genre, who they had been written for, where they had come from. The shelves quickly began to fill up. In a chair against the wall sat Señor Alvarez, a wizened little man who jotted down notes and numbers in his ledger. Every so often his sight would fail him, and the children would have to call out the names of the books in their hands

“That should be all,” he said when the last of the crates was nearly empty.

As Ofelia stood up, she happened to glance inside the crate and paused. “What about this one?”

_“Qué?”_

“Here.” Moving aside some stray piles of straw, the girl pulled what appeared to be a small, leather-bound notebook from the bottom of the crate.

“Is there a name on it?”

“Not on the outside.” She touched its surface, and the black leather cracked and crumbled beneath her fingers. A pair of similarly worn pair of straps held the book shut. Carefully untying them, Ofelia peered between the covers. The smell of ancient paper filled the air as the brittle, yellowed pages saw the light. Fields of scribbled words in faded ink covered them, nearly indecipherable. It was her language, she could make that out well enough. But not the kind she knew, not quite.

Señor Alvarez flipped through his ledger. “No sign of it in here.”

“Is something wrong?” Manolo asked, noticing the confusion.

“We just have this left,” Ofelia replied, gesturing to the strange book, “but we don’t know how it…Vin, _don’t!”_

“It’s supposed to come out, see?” he said. Vicente was tugging at a scrap which appeared to stick an inch above the binding of the book. He slid it out from between the pages, revealing a piece of paper folded several times over. “Someone put it in here.”

“What is it?” Ofelia asked.

“One way to find out.” Setting the paper on the floor, Vicente began to unfold his find. The girls watched over his shoulders, and the adults moved closer as well.

Pushing back the creases brought forth a series of hasty drawings jumbled together: a broken tree atop a hill, a winding line that might have been a river, thick jungle overlaying the whole scene. When it was all laid out, the observers could see a tall, blocky pyramid near the upper right corner. Above that was a drawing of a full moon, and with it the only splash of color in the image - blood red.

Ixa covered her mouth in shock, and Manolo felt a chill run down his spine.

The children, on the other hand, seemed to find no true danger in the drawing. “Now we know why someone wanted to get rid of it,” Gabriela said, making a face.

Ofelia looked more worried. “What should we do with these, señor?”

Senor Alvarez frowned as he looked at the book and picture. “Best you keep them safe,” he answered after a moment. “Might send the farmers into another panic.”

Manolo looked up. “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t heard them talk?” the old man said, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “They’re saying the moon’s gotten more red each night.”

“T-They have…?”

He nodded as though he was the authority on the subject. “You would think they would find the cats more troubling.”

“What cats?”

Now the old man simply shrugged. “A whole pack tore up some field a few weeks ago. Killed a pig. Jaguars, perhaps.”

Ixa’s face was turning pale alongside Manolo’s. “I ought to be going…”

“Actually,” Manolo said, “would you mind coming back with me for a while? There’s something else I’d like to talk about.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Nightmares?” Ixa asked. “About something happening to Ofelia?”

Manolo squirmed in his spot on the sofa, while Maria looked at her lap and didn’t say a word. “I suppose,” the former replied. “We’ve never seen it.”

“But you feel her suffering. Do you not?”

Maria bit her lip. “We can hear her calling for us. And when we go looking for her — “

“You find only Pax and his men.”

“I never said it was them,” Manolo said, his countenance darkening.

“If you see red moonlight when they appear,” the woman said, “it cannot be any other.”

“What do you mean?”

Ixa clammed up at the question. “I-It’s something I have never spoken of before…”

Maria reached out and took her by the hand. “You don’t have to talk about it again. But if it might be important, then we need to know.”

“Y-Yes…yes, you do.” She took a few breaths as she laced and unlaced her fingers. “It happened long ago. Before the men and gods of the Old World first came upon these shores. Every two centuries, my sisters would take me to the jaguar city near the eastern coast. A festival, they called it. Held under the red moon.” She fell silent for another moment. “Pax was a mighty god in those days, but his form and his power could not be long sustained. When the moon began to shine red, he knew it had come time to feed and…”

“And what?” Manolo asked.

“…And replenish his ranks.”

“What does that mean, Ixa?”

“It means just the thing it would seem to.” She shook her head vigorously, as though to dispel a hated memory. “I shall not frighten you any further. You need only know that you must keep your children close until these strange things come to an end. When the moon begins to wane, the danger shall have passed.” She stood up. “I should go.”

“Wait!” Manolo said, springing to his feet and placing a hand on her arm. “Is…is he looking for Ofelia? Is that where these dreams are coming from?”

Maria shot him a dark look. “Manolo, we — “

“We need to know if we’re going to protect her, don’t we?”

Ixa looked miserable by now. “I cannot say for certain.”

“But if he was…?”

“Then I pray the gods still favor you.” She hastily averted her eyes from them both as she hurried to the stairs and called for her children.

* * *

“What, she knew what went on at those ceremonies and she didn’t tell you?” Xibalba asked, an eyebrow raised. “What good is she, then?”

“She was scared,” Manolo snapped as he glared at his listener, who was slowly but surely losing patience. “And I don’t blame her for it.”

“But if she had told you about the…”

“Then I don’t know what would have changed,” the mortal man answered. “It wouldn’t have made me less of a fool.” He looked down at the broken glasses. “I suppose that’s always going to happen when I love someone.”

* * *

_Blood seeped into the upturned dirt and dripped down the steps of the pyramid. Was it his blood or theirs? Even if it mattered, Manolo couldn’t have told. Pushing aside the last jaguar corpse, he staggered up towards the top platform, where a small, struggling figure was bound to a stone altar. **“Ofelia!”** he shouted._

_She tried to sit up, pulling at the ropes which bound her wrists and ankles. **“Papa?”**_

_He began to run, not noticing the dark clouds parting above them._

_The moon was full as it emerged, and its light was dark red. A single beam shot down from the heavens and struck the altar, scattering into a blinding glare. Manolo cried out in pain as he recoiled and covered his eyes. His foot slipped on the pooling blood, and he tumbled down the steps, his head bashing against one as he landed on the wet ground._

_When his vision finally stopped spinning, the world had gone dark once more. An eerie silence blanketed the jungle, broken only by the click of claws on stone._

_Manolo pushed himself up, gritting his teeth as his bones trembled. Creeping down the steps was another jaguar, this one smaller than the others. Its eyes gleamed yellow, and a low growl escaped its throat as it focused on its prey._

_**The sword.** Manolo fumbled for his weapon, but found it gone. **No matter. It’s small, perhaps I can take it —**_

_Crouching, the jaguar opened its maw and spoke._ **“Lo siento,** _**Papa.”** _

_Manolo tried to bolt away, but the creature was already leaping onto his chest and pinning him down. It bared its teeth and roared, but the only noise that came out was her scream._

_It was the last thing he heard before it dug its teeth into his throat._

* * *

_“No!”_ he shouted as he catapulted awake, grasping in vain at the air. He had been splayed out across his bed, drenched in sweat and tangled in the bed sheets. Forcing his breath to slow, he wiped the tears from his eyes and looked around.

Maria, by some stroke of luck, had gone. Still up reading, perhaps, or tending to Alejo. The candle which sat on the table next to their bed had vanished. _She must be downstairs, or in the library._

Sitting up, Manolo flexed his stiff joints and fumbled about in the darkness for his robe and slippers. When he found them, he felt his way to the door and slowly opened it. The corridor was as silent and dark as ever — _even a bit too much,_ he thought in passing as he began walking towards the stairs.

“Not so loud…!”

“But why won’t you?”

Manolo froze. _Is…is that Gabriela? In Ofelia’s room?_ He turned around as quietly as he could, looking towards his daughter’s door. Moonlight and candlelight spilled out from the gap near the floor, and within, three voices were whispering at once. Tiptoeing back towards the end of the hall, he knelt by the door and peered through the keyhole.

The window hung open, the top rung of a ladder poking above the sill. In the middle of the floor sat Ofelia, while Vicente and Gabriela sat facing her. The redheaded girl was inching closer to her friend, her face growing more animated as she spoke of something Manolo could not hear. Ofelia shrank backwards, wrapping her arms around herself. “I should tell Mama and Papa.”

“They wouldn’t let you, Felia. You said it yourself, they aren’t telling you anything. Don’t you want to know what’s wrong with them?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then we need to go find what it is about this map that made them so nervous. Tonight.”

_No. No no no **no!**_

Vicente seemed to be growing more uneasy now. “Maybe we should just — “

“No,” Ofelia said abruptly, louder than before. “Bry’s right. I need to know what Mama and Papa are scared of.”

The children fell silent as the clock on the wall struck half past eleven. “Come back in half an hour,” Ofelia whispered when it was done. “Meet me in the backyard.”

He wanted to fling the door open and storm in, demand to know how they could possibly be so foolish, but the icy fear pulled him away. He staggered back to his feet and away from the door, took a wary step and nearly collapsed against the wall. His breathing, calm a few moments before, now came forth in frantic gasps.

_They’re coming for her,_ he thought. _The pack. They’re coming for her. She’ll die if they find her alone. I need to stop her…_

He reached for her doorknob, but paused before he could grab it. _She’ll know I was listening, though._ What would be the chances of her obeying him then? Perhaps she wouldn’t even believe him — he made it all up because he didn’t trust her, she would say.

_I have to keep her inside somehow. If I can just keep her inside until morning…_

He hardly realized he was running towards the parlor until he was halfway down the stairs. He stumbled onto the landing and sprinted down the last few steps, then ran across the room and through the kitchen door. He was vaguely aware of passing Maria, seeing her put down her book and follow him, hearing her ask him what was happening. By then, he was too busy rummaging through the drawer full of keys to answer her. It took him only a moment to find the one he wanted, and then he was rushing back upstairs, skidding to a stop in front of Ofelia’s door. His hands seemed to move of their own accord as they jammed it into the keyhole and forced it to turn.

The relief brought by the click of the lock lasted only a few seconds. Slippered feet ran to the door, and small hands twisted the doorknob in vain. “Papa? Papa…?”

“I’m sorry, _mija,”_ he whispered, to himself as much as to her. _“Te amo…”_

“Manolo?” His wife was slowly approaching him, confusion and suspicion clear on her face. “What did you just do?”


	6. Chapter 6

Black clouds covered the pale red moon and swept across the sky, making it indistinguishable from the dark silhouettes of the hills. The only light came from the flickering street lamps and the lanterns that swayed in the grasp of those few souls hurrying home late. Between the murky night and the soft, chilly wind coming down from the north, it was easy to dismiss the churning on the surface of the lake as nothing at all.

The jaguars slipped into the water one by one and began to paddle towards the island without a sound. They moved quickly, even as their careful strokes made nothing more than small splashes. The tops of their heads bobbed just above the water, their eyes glowing as they caught the light coming from the shore. When the wind changed course and blew towards them, carrying with it the scent of human flesh, they began to swim even faster. The steep edges of the sidewalk only slowed them down for a moment: they clawed and leapt their way on to the land, their tails flicking as they bared their teeth and sniffed the air. Not since the ancient times had there been so many mortals in one place. They would feast for days on such a haul as this!

“Not yet,” Pax snapped at his soldiers as he followed them out of the water. “First we take what we need.” He tensed his muscles and crouched, scanning his surroundings.

The slight flash of movement in an alleyway caught his eye — a little man cowering behind a barrel, trembling as though he knew he was prey. Pax grinned and lunged forward. The human dropped his lantern and tried to scramble away, letting out a shrill scream that was instantly silenced by a paw to his neck.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Pax said with a toothy smile as he pinned the man down. “To raise the alarm?”

The man blanched, a pathetic squeak squeezing its way from his throat just before he fainted dead away.

Pax rolled his eyes and shoved the prone body aside. “Do you see any others?” he asked one of his men.

“No, my lord.”

“Then follow me.” Catching the scent he searched for on the wind, he growled his approval before running off into town with his pack on his heels.

* * *

_“What did you just do?”_ Maria repeated, her tone becoming sharper when her husband refused to answer her. “Why is…h _ey!”_

Darting towards her, Manolo grabbed his wife by the arm and quickly pulled her down the hall. Not until they reached the top of the stairs did he pause. “I need you to go outside and wait under the window in case she tries going out that way. Take a sword along if you have to. If you see the twins — “

“Why is our daughter _locked in her room,_ Manolo?” she shouted.

“Because they’ve come for her!”

“What are you talking about?!?”

“The jaguars,” he said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “They’ve come for Ofelia. Right now.”

Maria’s eyes began to widen. “…How do you know?”

“I-I don’t, not really,” he answered, trembling. “But t-there was this dream, and I thought I saw…” He shook his head. “I can just feel it somehow. They’re getting close, I know it.”

A look of horror slowly but surely spread across Maria’s face. “And you’ve left her _by herself?”_ Tearing away from Manolo’s grasp, she took off down the hall. _“Mija!”_

Manolo caught her again, holding her back by her shoulders. “She was going to sneak out!”

“And that’s supposed to make this okay?” she snarled.

“I’m trying to keep her _safe,_ Maria! We need to make sure she stays in there. If they track her down, they’ll — “

“I know what they’ll do,” she said, glaring at him. “Does she?”

He didn’t answer.

Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head, muttering curses under her breath. “Fine.” She started to turn away. “If you can’t do the right thing here, then — “

The walls of the house abruptly groaned, rattling from the roof down to the foundation. Manolo and Maria froze and fell silent, their eyes darting between the ceiling and the hallway. Back in their bedroom, Chuy bolted upright and sniffed the air before squealing in fear and diving under the bed. Behind them, Alejo stirred and began to wail.

Maria glanced at her husband as she nodded in the direction of the baby’s room, wordlessly commanding him. Manolo nodded back and began to creep towards Alejo’s door, but then stopped. “Do you hear that?” he whispered.

“Hear what?”

He pointed at the ceiling. “Listen…”

Heavy steps were plodding across the roof, several sets of them. They passed over the adults’ heads, then grew slower and quieter as they traveled down the hall. When they were nearly at the end, they suddenly halted. The whole world seemed to have fallen into silence by now: the only thing Manolo could hear was his own ragged breathing. He took a step forward, intending to make his way to Ofelia’s door. _We can still make it if —_

**CRASH!** “Papa! _Papa!”_

* * *

Ofelia had been putting on her shoes and searching for her little brown satchel when she heard her bedroom door lock. She whirled around, her eyes widening in realization as she caught sight of her father’s slippers from beneath the door. She ran to the door as he walked away, grabbing the doorknob with both hands and twisting it back and forth in vain. “Papa?” she called out, knocking on the door. “Papa!” He must have been listening.

She pressed her ear to the door: there was her mother’s voice now, with the quiet and firm tone she only used in times of trouble. The two of them were walking away, her voices growing louder as they spoke to each other — even from this distance, the girl could tell that they were fighting.

“P-Please stop,” she blurted out when she found her voice again. “I’m sorry, Papa! I won’t do it again! I’ll be good! Can I come out, _por favor?_ W-What’s going on?”

There was no answer, only more muffled shouts.

It suddenly dawned upon her how quiet it had become, and how dark: the moonlight was all but gone, and jagged shadows were crawling up the floorboards as though they meant to grab her. Pulling her yellow robe tighter around herself, Ofelia sank back against the wall and slid to the floor, clutching her satchel and trying not to tremble.

She was searching in the bag for her flashlight when the house began to groan. It was a loud, long and ugly noise, as though the timbers were suddenly forced to carry the weight of something terrible. She let out a small gasp and curled into a ball, pressing herself against the door. Her hands were shaking too hard to switch on the flashlight, let alone hold it. The weight of a dozen wicked, prying eyes seemed to be watching her at once. Ofelia stiffened, gulping down her screams. _Please go away…_

Instead they began to move towards her with lumbering, focused steps. The roof creaked beneath their clicking feet as they made their way towards her room, circled her ceiling, gathered just above her window. Ofelia thought she heard low, hungry growls piercing the silence.

_Please don’t hurt us,_ she thought, hoping whatever spirit that had come would hear. _Please don’t hurt Mama and Papa._

**_It’s not them we want._ **

A large figure swung down in front of her window in the blink of an eye, shattering the glass with a single kick and leaping into the room. It was the largest cat she’d ever seen, staring at her with glowing yellow eyes as it stalked towards her. The creature growled as it bared its teeth in a victorious sneer. “Hello, Ofelia.”

She bolted to her feet and threw herself against the door, pounding on the wood and tugging in vain at the knob. “Papa! _Papa!”_

A paw struck the side of her head, knocking her to the floor, and she fell into nothingness.

* * *

It didn’t take much to break the bedroom door down, not with Manolo and Maria both rushing at it. They staggered into the room as it gave way, collapsing onto the shards of broken glass and the large, dirty paw tracks. _“Mija!”_ they cried out. _“Ofelia!”_

She was too far away to hear them now.


	7. Chapter 7

The screams echoed through the streets of San Angel — a pair of prolonged, almost unnatural noises that roused the townsfolk from their beds and pulled them out into the streets. By the time the throngs of people traced the cries back to the Sanchez house, however, they had fallen silent.

Maria was sitting in a corner of Alejo’s room when she was found, trembling as she clutched her wailing son to her chest and murmured barely comprehensible strings of words. In the center of his daughter’s room stood Manolo, surrounded by shattered glass and debris. He seemed not to hear the commotion unfolding around him: his gaze was locked on the open window, and those who unsuccessfully tried to pull him away couldn’t coax a word out of him.

“They took her,” Maria eventually whispered when she was questioned. “They took her…”

The words bled out into the gathering crowd. _Someone has stolen away the little Sanchez girl,_ people said to one another. _Snatched her from her bed in the middle of the night._

“Manolo!” Joaquin shouted as he forced his way to the front of the crowd with Ixa at his heels. He skidded to a stop when he saw the state of Ofelia’s room, the blood draining from his face as his jaw dropped. “What the hell _happened?”_

Ixa knelt and ran her hands along the deep, jagged gashes in the floorboards. “Joaquin…”

A series of annoyed shouts rose up from the hallway as two small figures hurriedly wormed through the mass of bodies. “What’s going on?” Vicente and Gabriela cried, stumbling through the doorway. “Where’s Felia?”

Manolo’s hands slowly clenched into fists when he heard them. “You two need to leave.”

Vicente approached him. “Uncle Manolo?” he asked, his voice breaking. “Is Felia okay…?”

_“Now,”_ he snarled.

Joaquin moved to usher the twins out of the room, but they were already slinking silently away.

“Manolo,” Ixa said, standing up and putting a hand on his arm, “what happened to her?” No answer. “…They came for her, didn’t they?”

He took a shuddering breath and tried to take a step backwards, only for his legs to give way and collapse. Joaquin caught him as he fell, and he buried his face in his friend’s shirt as he trembled.

“It’s gonna be okay, brother,” Joaquin whispered, trying to put an air of certainty in his voice. “We can still get her back.”

Manolo shook his head. “It’s all my fault.”

“There’s no time for that!” Pulling away from his friend, Joaquin gripped him by the shoulders. “Now _listen,”_ he said as though reprimanding a soldier, “you need to focus. She’s alone, she’s scared, she needs you to be strong right now. We’re gonna find those _cabróns_ and bring her home. That’s a promise.”

“I don’t even know where they went…”

There was a clatter downstairs, accompanied by a reedy voice shouting. “There was a whole pack of them, I swear! I saw them with my own eyes! And the largest one spoke to me and — “

“I’ll hear no more of it! Out of this house at once!”

The Mondragons hurried down to the parlor, pulling Manolo along with them. A sizable group was forming in the middle of the room around General Posada, whose remaining hand was latched around the throat of a struggling farmer. “I’m telling the truth, _señor!”_ the frightened man was yelling.

“Can’t you see we’ve no time for your stories? My granddaughter is _missing,_ and you want to tell us about some beast that spoke to you?!?”

“Let him.”

The room fell silent as everyone looked towards the top of the stairs. Maria was making her way down from the landing with her son still in her arms. “What is he saying, Papa?” she asked. Her gaze was locked forward and never wavered from the scene she was approaching: grief had given way to a cold, razor-sharp focus.

“It’s nothing you need to…” General Posada trailed off as his daughter shot him a glare. _“Señor_ here says a talking jaguar tried to rip his throat out.”

The muscles in Maria’s face remained still, as did the rest of them, but the glint which passed through her eyes could not be ignored. “Is that true?”

_“S-Si, señora,”_ the farmer answered, his legs wobbling as Posada let him go free. “A whole pack. Six or seven, at least.”

“Did you see where they went?”

He gulped. “They were swimming back across the lake a few minutes ago. One of them had something small in its mouth…?”

An invisible wave of realization rippled through the crowd, followed a moment later by one of horror.

Maria remained stoic. “Tell me which way they were headed.”

“I-I don’t know if — “

_“Tell me!”_ Maria snapped, spitting the words out through her teeth as the fire in her eyes flared up.

The little man nearly fainted again. “…East. They were going to the east.”

She nodded, then looked to her slack-jawed husband and friends. “We have a chance of hunting them down if we hurry.”

“Quite right!” General Posada said, as though the idea had been his. “You wait here, _mija._ Give my men and I some time to prepare, and we’ll — “

_“You_ are staying right here,” Maria answered, handing him Alejo. “I’m going after them.”

“You _what?”_ her father sputtered.

“Your men aren’t fit for this, Papa,” she continued. “I know how to fight those things better than any of you do, and I’ll cover more ground by myself.”

“You’re not going alone!” Manolo said, snapping out of his daze. “She’s _our_ — “

_“I’m_ her mother.” Maria fixed an even more withering glare upon him. “And she needs someone she can count on to keep her safe.”

Joaquin hesitated a moment before stepping between the two of them. “In that case,” he said in a careful tone, “I think she’d be better off with a few more of us.”

“Can you look to the twins for us, _señor?”_ Ixa asked General Posada.

“What, all four of you fools?”

“Joaquin and I know these creatures as well,” she answered. “And,” she added, glancing at Manolo and Maria, “we shall not leave our family in such need.”

“How long has it been since you saw the pack leave?” Joaquin asked the now-thoroughly confused and terrified farmer.

“Ten minutes? Maybe a few more?”

“You two go on ahead now,” he said to his friends. “Take Plata, she can carry you both. We’ll grab a few days’ worth of supplies and follow you.”

Manolo and Maria were out the door barely a few moments after he finished, pausing only to take coats, boots and swords. The people of San Angel stared through the gaping doorway after them as they ran away and were swallowed up by the night.

Joaquin turned back to the general. “We’ll need food, guns, maybe a few bedrolls…”

“And we mustn’t forget the map,” Ixa added.

“What map?”

“Ofelia found a book this morning,” she said. “An old journal. It had a map inside.”

“What makes you think that’ll help?”

“I…” She shook her head. “I don’t know for certain. I simply feel it.”

Her husband gave her a look of confusion that quickly softened. “Do you know where it is?”

“In her room, I should think.”

“Then we’ll find it.” He motioned for a few of the soldiers to search upstairs before heading for the door. “And we’ll find Ofelia, General.”

“More likely you’ll find what’s left of — “

_“Don’t you dare.”_

In the shadow of the upstairs hallway, two small heads looked to where the third of them had last been and then at one another. There was a spark flickering to life in Gabriela’s eyes, full of fear but just as much with hope.

Vicente could see it even before she was fully aware of it. “You’re not going to — “

“I’m not,” she said. “We are.”

“I thought so.”


	8. Chapter 8

Dark visions and sensations flooded Ofelia's mind as she came to: large paws thudding along the ground, the splash of water on her face, sharp teeth sinking into her skin as San Angel faded into the dark. She shuddered and jolted awake, gasping for air.

What she found when she opened her eyes was no better than what she had seen in her head. Gone was her warm bed and sheets: instead she was lying curled up on a rock. Her skin and clothes felt clammy, drenched in cold water and who knew what else. She winced and shielded her eyes from the pale blue light which spilled onto her from above: the mouth of a steep, narrow cave, she found as her eyes adjusted. Somehow she had kept her glasses, smudged and blurry as they were. Her satchel still hung at her side, heavy from the water that had seeped through its openings. The girl squirmed free of its leathery grasp, trying not to make a sound. Shadowy shapes surrounded her, lying still and breathing slowly. Holding her breath, she reached for a crevice in the rock and tried to pull herself upwards. It gave way at her touch, crumbling into pebbles that tumbled down the plane.

The jaguars were upon her before the sound faded away. One swiped a paw and flipped her on to her back, then pinned her down and loomed over her with bared teeth and glowing eyes. Ofelia's memories of the terrible night came rushing back at the sight of the creature, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. _"Mama! Papa!"_

The jaguar struck her again, nearly bashing her head against a jagged piece of rock. "Not a sound." The sound that came from its mouth was low and raspy, more of a growl that seemed to be forming words than a true voice. Ofelia froze when she heard it, the blood draining from her face as her eyes grew wide.

"Obedient one," the creature continued, putting down its head to sniff at the girl's hair and skin. "And so very meek." Its dark lips curled back towards its gums, exposing dirty teeth in what might have been intended as a smile. "Careful, little one. I might just take you for myself once you're…"

A loud yowl of rage cut through the air. "Stand aside!"

The jaguar recoiled from Ofelia as quickly as he had pounced, hanging his head as he slipped back into the shadows to seethe with resentment. The rest of the beasts followed suit, scrambling away from the figure that was cutting a path through them. Ofelia sat up only to curl into a ball, whimpering as the heavy steps approached her.

A gust of hot breath blew down onto her hair. "Look at me, child." She didn't budge. The beast put its face inches from hers and growled, making her tremble. "I said _look at me."_

Choking down another scream, she looked up into the yellow eyes of the monster that had taken her.

Pax nodded. "Good." He looked his prisoner up and down, his eyes glimmering in the faint light. "You learn well, little one." The jaguar took a step away from the girl, and then reared up onto his hind legs. Bones and muscles shifted beneath the skin, adjusting themselves to suit a two-legged form. Stubby paws stretched and spread out into meaty hands with clawed fingers. Ofelia watched in silent horror until the creature was towering above her with the fur-covered body of a man and the head of a cat.

When Pax had finished the change, he knelt and stared into the girl's eyes. "You don't seem happy to see me."

Ofelia opened and closed her mouth, unable to form words. "Why would I be?" she finally said.

"What, you don't remember the friend who granted your wish?" He pulled himself up to his full height. "You asked for a different life, and now here you are."

Confusion crossed the girl's face, followed a moment later by horror. "I didn't mean it. I-I didn't mean it…!"

The jaguar smirked. "What difference does that make?"

Ofelia staggered to her feet, her hands balling into fists. "Where are my mama and papa? And my brother?"

"Far away from here," Pax answered. "They wouldn't find you even if they were looking."

"That's not true."

"It shouldn't matter to you, little one." He reached out a hand and brushed his claws down Ofelia's cheek. "Forget them. A great destiny awaits you, little one. You shall come with us to our ancient grounds, learn our ways and become a powerful warrior."

"I think," Ofelia said, glaring at Pax, "I'd rather go back to _mi familia."_

The jaguar sneered and grabbed her by the throat. "You think this is about what _you_ want? You are but a tool in our plans. We shall have our old powers and our revenge. All of humanity shall suffer for how they humiliated us. _Your parents_ shall suffer."

"No." The girl was trembling, but her gaze never wavered. "No, they won't."

Pax roared in her face and tightened his grip on her neck. "You will _do as I say,"_ he snarled as he lifted her off the ground and watched her choke, "or you will _die."_

Using what strength she had left, Ofelia gulped up enough breath to speak. "My mama and papa…they'll…"

"Come and save you?" Pax finished. "Oh, little cub…you'll be too busy tearing them to shreds."

"My lord!" Another jaguar appeared at the mouth of the cave, panting. "I saw four mortals drawing near."

Pax dropped his prisoner and turned to his men. "Enough rest! We must move quickly if we are to reach Tehuantepec in time." He dropped down, shifting back into his four-legged form, and scooped Ofelia into his jaws.

* * *

The jaguar pack emerged onto the surface in a silent mass, stalking through the early morning fog. Hanging from Pax's mouth, Ofelia strained her neck to look around. Jagged hills covered in dry grass surrounded them, and far in the distance stood a forest of tall, thick trees. Something was moving in the mist nearby, almost too quick to see – a trio of horses, their familiar riders frantically spurring them towards the south and away from the pack.

Bracing herself for what was to follow, Ofelia took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could. Instantly she felt herself slam onto the cold ground and Pax's paws striking at her. As her vision faded and died, however, she could glimpse her parents turning back towards her.


	9. Chapter 9

“I don’t know what you were expecting to do if you managed to catch up to them,” Xibalba said, starting to pick at his teeth by this point. “They’ve all been warriors since birth, and that’s not even _with_ Pax leading them. A god that old can’t be scratched by a mortal. Certainly not with mortal weapons.”

Manolo answered with a slow, grim smirk. “I managed it somehow, didn’t I? Or else you wouldn’t be here.” His quiet voice was tinted with bloody anticipation, as though he was waiting to demonstrate what had happened for and on his visitor.

“…Right.” Xibalba squirmed in his seat and tugged at his shirt collar. “Finish your story up, then.”

“It’s only just starting.”

The god scowled. “What more is there left to tell?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

* * *

The pack had gone by the time the small search party had found the cave, but the tracks they left were still clear and fresh — the four humans followed the trail as far as it would go, riding through the day and into the evening. Around them, the landscape changed bit by bit: tan and orange earth became brown and green, and flat plains broken by spurts of rock became sloping hills covered in trees. Joaquin began to shift in his saddle and glance at the passing world more often, especially at the dark clouds following the group.

“Have you ever come out this far before?” Ixa asked him, seeing the tenseness in his face.

He shook his head. “Not in this direction.” Spurring his horse forward, he galloped up alongside Manolo and Maria. “I think there’s supposed to be a town near here. We should reach it by nightfall if we keep this pace up. Just something to think about in case the weather turns bad, you know…?”

Maria nodded as though only half-listening. Manolo said nothing and only stared at the horizon.

The stormclouds covered the sun before it could set. Fat, cold raindrops came pouring down as though the earth had become the bottom of a waterfall. The four mortals shivered as they tried in vain to shield themselves from the deluge, and the faint pawprints that still remained in the ground began to wash away. Manolo grew pale and spurred Plata forward, nearing throwing Maria off the horse as he galloped down the fading path. “No!”

“Leave it alone, Manny!” Joaquin shouted as he caught up to him and grabbed Plata’s reins. “We need to find a place to stop anyway.”

“But — “

“We won’t find her in this weather, _hermano._ And even if we did, we wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.” He pointed off to the northwest, where a collection of lights were flickering through the trees and rain. “Let’s look for shelter over there. Maybe we can ask some people if they’ve seen anything.”

Manolo didn’t answer: he was still tense, his gaze darting back to the road ahead. Maria gripped his arm and pulled him closer to her. “It’ll do us all some good. Por favor.”

He began to relax and loosened his grip on Plata’s reins, but he kept staring at the last of the disappearing pawprints. “Alright…”

* * *

Half a mile away, the forest came to an abrupt stop. Dying leaves and branches littered the ground, surrounding the stumps of felled trees. Beyond them lay small, fenced-off fields around a scattering of sad-looking wooden buildings drooping in the rain. The lights in the houses were being put out one by one as frightened faces peered out from windows. They glanced around them and then up at the sky before retreating once again. Past the invisible point where the not-quite-a-town came to an end, the plain continued for another short while before dropping down and out of sight altogether. It seemed to be the edge of a great pit or canyon, its bottom obscured by the wild, untamed mass of canopy and foliage that grew from its depths. A flimsy ladder propped up against the cliffside, stretching down into the dark, was all that connected the speck of civilization to the jungle pushing against it.

By now, the only lights in the little town were coming from the cantina near its center. The four travelers tethered their horses beneath the rusty metal awning, and then pushed open the swinging doors.

There was only one room on the ground floor, and a rather dingy one at that – a row of crates lined up in front of several shelves formed a bar of sorts, looking out on tables filled with shifty-eyed men in long beards and _serapes_ playing cards. A few lanterns sat as centerpieces or swung from the ceiling. In the back of the room, one flight of steps led downwards and another wound up.

The dozen or so pairs of eyes in the cantina fixed on the newcomers, narrowing and glinting. The bartender was the first to speak up. “What do you want?”

Joaquin shook the water droplets off as best as he could and cleared his throat. “We’re, ah…just looking for a place to spend the night.”

The old man grunted in acknowledgement and nodded towards the stairs going up. “There’s a few beds in the attic. Or there’s a stable in the back,” he added with a smirk.

Joaquin let out a small, feigned laugh. “I guess that works out. Let me just go take care of the horses and - “

The bartender snapped his fingers, and a scruffy little man leapt up from his spot at one of the tables and scuttled out the door. “Don’t worry,” the older man added, admiring the travelers’ alarm. “He only picks saddlebags half the time these days.”

“I see…”

“Not often we get people like you around here.” The bartender looked his visitors up and down, lingering on the women. “Can’t just be business that brings you out so far.”

“It certainly is,” Maria answered, glaring at him. “We’re looking for someone. We think they…she passed through here.”

“Taken away from you, was she?”

“Does that mean you’ve seen her?” Manolo asked, his attention sharpening.

The old man let out a snort. “That just means I know how this sort of thing goes.”

Joaquin saw his friend’s facial features beginning to twitch and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’d be grateful if you could help us find a guide. This girl, we think she’s somewhere in the jungle.”

The whole cantina stared at him in horror as the last word left his mouth. Sloshing cups paused halfway to mouths, and playing cards slipped from hands to scatter on the floor. A pulse seemed to shoot through the room, like a terrible memory abruptly resurfacing.

“If I were you,” the bartender said softly, “I’d go back to where you came from. You’re not going to see that girl again.” He dodged Manolo’s hand as it shot out, trying to grab the collar of his shirt and drag him over the bar. “The jaguars got her now.”

Manolo froze. “…What did you say?”

The bartender gestured to the window, where moonlight the color of blood was beginning to seep through the clouds. “You see that? Moon’s turning red. Means the jaguars found their way out of hell.”

Ixa stepped out from behind Joaquin, eying the old man with suspicion. “How much do you know about them, exactly?”

“Nothing that you kind of folk ought to hear.”

Maria took a seat and rested her arms on the top of the bar. “I think we can be the judges of that.”

The bartender flashed her a toothy grin and started to pour some more drinks. “Very well.”

* * *

“We used to have lots of towns in these hills before the Spaniards came,” he said, aware that the whole cantina was leaning in to hear him. “Still stopped right at the jungle’s edge, though. That wasn’t us mortals’ place. That belonged to Pax and all his kin.”

Manolo stiffened.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of him? Back then we called him the Jaguar King. One of the old gods, he was. Not quite a man and not quite a cat. Him and his pack, they ruled this part of Mexico for centuries. Deep in the jungle they had their own city. Tehuantepec.” He downed a glass of _mezcal_ in one gulp. “My _bisabuelo_ told me they built their palaces with our bones and painted the walls with our blood. But that was just the drink talking. Now what they did to the children, that was all true…”

“T-The children?” Joaquin said.

_“Si,_ if you could still call them that.” The old man’s countenance began to darken as he poured another drink. “First they hunted us down whenever they found someone straying too near the trees. Then they came after the villages for sport. Dragged our bodies over the sacrifices we left them. Once they saw we’d grown desperate, they came to each town and offered us a deal.” His voice turned raspy and menacing as he began to imitate Pax’s speech. “‘Give to us one of your children on the tenth day of Ix each year. Leave them at the edge of your village for us to collect. If this is done, and no harm shall come to you.’ So we said yes. It was wicked work, but it was done.”

Maria frowned. “It doesn’t make any sense, though. What would they want with just a few kids?”

“My people asked themselves the same thing, _señora,”_ the bartender answered. “They never found signs of slaughter after the monsters had gone. One year the villages sent their best warriors to follow them all the way to Tehuantepec and bring back news of the children’s fate.” He paused to pour himself another drink, this one much larger than the others.

“And what did they find?” Manolo asked, whispering around the lump in his throat.

“Pax took them all to his altar. The ones who were most frightened, those were the ones he killed outright. Tore them open and drank their blood, and the rest of them had to watch. The ones who looked away, they got the same thing. The ones that could stomach it…” He downed his drink.

“Well?”

“…He lashed them to the altar and let the red moon’s light shine on them,” the old man said gravely. “And they were turned. Remade in his image. Their souls destroyed. When it ended, all you had left was a jaguar cub ready to feast on its old friends.”

The only sound to be heard was the wind moaning outside.

“When Pax came for his new soldiers the year after that,” the bartender continued, “he found an army waiting for him. We traded with the Spaniards for guns, hundreds of them. The old gods didn’t stand a chance against such things back then. We chased that cabrón all the way to his city and smashed it to ruins. As for him and his kin, they fled and grew weak. My people never saw them again.” He paused, glaring forward with unfocused eyes. “And now? Now the moon’s shining red once more. Now they’re back, come to build their army back up and go on as they used to. And I’ll bet everything I have they mean to start with that girl you’re looking for.”

“No,” Manolo hissed through his teeth. His hands were balling into fists as he felt eyes drilling into him from all sides.

“It’s true, every word of it — “

_“No!”_ Scrambling to his feet, he stormed out into the night. Maria was on his heels, her eyes blazing.

* * *

“And where do you think you’re going?” she snapped when she caught up to him at the stable.

“I’m not staying here.”

Maria advanced on him, trying to back him against a wall. “Oh, so you think you’re the one who’s going to fix this? You’re the one who _did_ this!”

“At least I’m not going to waste time while they get further away!”

“At least I’m not the one who _left our daughter alone with those **things!”** _ Raising a hand, she slapped Manolo across the face with all the force she could muster. He staggered and slipped on the dark mud, falling onto his side. She stood glaring down at him as he stared at the ground, neither of them daring to move.

Eventually her legs began to wobble, and she sank down to his level. Curling up against him, she pressed her face into his chest and waited for tears that wouldn’t come.

He lifted an arm and hesitantly wrapped it around her waist. “I deserved that.”

“She’d say you didn’t.”

Manolo struggled back to his feet, pulling her with him. “You know I can’t wait until morning to go after them,” he said. “I won’t let you lose her.”

“I’m not losing either of you.” She stepped away from him, still holding his hand. “That’s a promise.”

They both turned at the sound of a low cough and found the Mondragons standing nearby. “So…I guess we need a plan?” Joaquin asked.

“We have one,” said Maria. “Get everything you can carry off the horses and climb down that ladder.”

On the other side of the cantina, a lone horse carrying two small figures trotted through town and hurried towards the jungle’s edge.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this an interlude between the last chapter and the next one. Sorry for the wait. I know this probably won’t make up for it, but I tried.

It had been hours since she had moved. She lay curled between the thick, jutting roots of a tree, trying in vain to block out the moist air and the endless buzz of the birds and insects. Perhaps if she could make the monsters believe she was dead, she thought in passing, they would leave her.

A gust of Pax’s hot, meaty breath toppled that fantasy as the jaguar lowered his head near hers and smelled her. “You need to eat, little one.”

Ofelia didn’t answer; she only squeezed her eyelids further together and nestled closer against the tree trunk.

Pax extended a paw and stroked her hair, watching her tremble. “We’ve no reason to keep you alive if you can’t follow orders,” he whispered. “Besides, starving isn’t pleasant. I would know. Certainly not a worthy fate for such a pretty young creature as yourself.”

There was a bitter retort festering in the girl’s throat, but she forced herself to choke it back down.

The jaguar growled as he drew away from her. “Wait here,” he snapped before stalking off into the moonlit jungle.

Ofelia listened as his plodding steps faded away. When they had gone altogether, she rolled onto her back, opened her eyes and let her tears slide silently down her cheeks.

The pack had been traveling all day and most of the night, dragging her along with them. Any landmarks she might have recognized been passed, and the sights surrounding her turned green and alien. Home could have been hundreds of miles away, for all she knew. Maybe it was.

As the realization that she was not trapped in some long, terrible sleep began to settle in her mind, the girl struggled less and less against her captors. Eventually she hung from Pax’s jaws like a forlorn doll. The jaguar set her down and let her trudge along at his side, picking her up again only to climb down the steep cliffs they scaled as the desert turned to plains, and then to jungle.

The night air grew moist and warm as they dropped into a canyon overflowing with trees, bushes and flowers. Branches snagged at the sleeves and hem of her robe, tearing at the fabric. Something covered in thorns brushed harshly against her cheek, drawing a thin stream of blood. Rocks and holes littered the path: she stumbled over them, tearing more gashes in her knees and palms.

“Please stop,” she croaked through her dry throat. “I can’t walk anymore…”

The jaguars caught the scent of blood and began to stalk closer to her, salivating.

Pax forced them away with a growl. “We stop here until day. Keep watch, and stay clear of the girl.”

He was coming back towards her now, with a ragged slab of raw flesh dangling from between his jaws. He dropped on the ground before her, then sat back on his haunches. “Eat.”

“I don’t eat meat,” Ofelia answered, quiet and firm.

“You will now.”

She glared at him and shook her head.

“Would you like your first lesson of us warriors?” His paws morphed into hands as he grabbed her, holding her by the jaw with one and ripping off a piece of the meat with the other. “You _always_ do as I say. Now _eat.”_

When she tried to pull away, the jaguar shoved a finger in her mouth and forced her lips apart. Her attempts at a scream were muffled by the slimy flesh that he pushed down her throat. Clapping her jaws shut again, he jerked her head back to make her swallow.

It was cold, hard, wet with blood, and it strained the muscles of her throat as it slid downwards. Ofelia struggled for air and gagged at the sensation. When Pax let her go, she flopped to the ground like a pile of skin and lay there trembling.

The jaguar paid no heed to her distress. “You’ll grow accustomed to it. Once you’re one of us, you’ll even enjoy it.”

“…What are you going to do to me?”

Pax’s head jerked back around, as though he was surprised that the girl still dared to speak to him. “Hmm?”

Ofelia was still lying on her side, but her trembling had ceased. “I said what are you going to do to me?”

Pax rolled his eyes. He’d forgotten how sentimental some of these brats could be over the whole business. “You will feel a stiffness, and then nothing at all.” He himself couldn’t recall if there had been more pain or not, but he didn’t care enough for the girl to try. “When it is done, you will wake as if from a long dream. In time the thoughts of all that came before will vanish. You will want and need only the pack, and you will be very happy.” Or at least the rest of them would be. Many years had passed since they had brought in a female.

Ofelia stared at him while he spoke. She lowered her gaze as the words set in, curling up into the dirt. Eventually her eyelids drifted shut. A shudder went through her thin frame, and for a moment Pax feared she would begin to cry once again. The girl did and said nothing more, however: within the hour, her breathing had evened out and she seemed to be asleep.

The rest of the pack returned from patrol one by one. They had caught very little during their hunts, which had sapped what remained of their energy and put them in a foul mood. With nary a thought to their prisoner, they retired to the highest branches of the surrounding trees and melted into the foliage.

Only Pax remained on the forest floor, intending to watch over the girl during the night. But the hours passed and she did not stir, and he felt his own body beginning to grow heavy with the exertion of the day. Morphing fully into his feline form, he stretched out on the ground and closed his eyes. Before long, his ragged snores were echoing through the jungle.

Ofelia’s eyes flew open. _Now or never._


	11. Chapter 11

Ofelia sat up inch by inch, every muscle in her body tensed as the leaves and twigs on the jungle floor softly crackled beneath her. One movement too loud and all the monsters in the trees above would come swooping down.

She craned her neck upwards, looking into the thick darkness. Most of the jaguars were up there, she knew, stretched out on branches and tired out from hunting. Looking in front of her, she saw the curled-up form of the one they called Pax, leaning against the trunk of the great tree as he slept. His ears twitched at the sound of croaking frogs somewhere in the distance, and his nose crinkled as he caught some wayward scent hanging in the air. Sharp claws slid in and out of their sheaths in time with his waxing and waning growls of pleasure. The girl shuddered at the sight.

Dark gray clouds were gathering overhead, covering up the moon, as the jungle air grew more moist and cool. The rain came only moments afterwards, cascading from the sky in a thick and sudden torrent. Ofelia flinched as the fat drops of water quickly drenched her, the cold sinking deep into her bones. The more rational part of her welcomed it: the sounds of the thunder and downpour were covering up the hum of the jungle, and they would surely do the same for her footsteps.

Still moving as slowly as she could, Ofelia pushed herself to her feet, keeping her eyes on Pax the whole time. The beast moved in his sleep and licked his lips, but he did not seem to wake. By the time she was standing, she could hardly feel her legs beneath her: they were trembling with the cold, and with the fear of what she was about to do.

She wiped the filmy layer of grime from her glasses, then pulled her now-tattered robe tighter around her body. Holding her breath, she began to creep away from the jagaurs’ tree.

When she had been much younger, her mother had made a point of teaching her how to properly sneak about. “Slow steps,” she had said, guiding her daughter across the parlor floor. “Don’t put your whole foot down at once. Toes first, and then the rest. That way they’ll never hear you, and they’ll never catch you.”

Ofelia was certain that Maria hadn’t been thinking of creatures such as these when she said ‘they,’ but she prayed it would hold true nonetheless. Her backward steps were gradual, almost agonizing in their slowness. Toes, then the balls of her feet and then her heel, set down one by one as though they would shatter if dropped too hard. They made only a gentle _thud_ in the soft earth, and that was masked by the rainfall. The jaguars remained still.

When she had managed to clear a few yards without being discovered, Ofelia finally turned her back on the tree. Before her, the jungle foliage grew thick and tall, forming a wall that stretched off into the dark. Parting the dark green leaves, she stepped through the barrier and let it swallow her up.

The smell of dirt and rot was much stronger in the midst of the jungle’s growth, mingling with the sweeter scents of ripe fruit and flowers in bloom. Ofelia covered her nose and mouth with both hands and started to quicken her pace. Twigs snapped under her shoes, and more brambles tugged at her skin and hair. She winced, but never more than a moment, and then she kept moving. There wasn’t any time to get around them, she had to find a hiding spot and then…and then…

She came to a stop and nearly collapsed as the weight of what was real pressed down on her. With the jaguars, she would at least have had some kind of protection. Now she was alone and lost, surely surrounded by creatures that wouldn’t want to see her alive in any sort of form.

Perhaps her parents weren’t far behind, and she only needed to wait to hear them calling her name. But perhaps they were still miles away, unable to outrun the monsters who would soon be searching for her. Or they had simply given up and turned back towards home…

No, they wouldn’t. Would they?

A faint sound from up ahead pulled Ofelia away from her musings. Something deep, loud and churning – the sound of a river, she realized as she listened. Her nerves regained strength at the thought; a river meant a path to follow, maybe back towards San Angel. And if not, then maybe another village where she could seek shelter. It would be better than staying where she was or stumbling back into the pack’s grasp, she knew that much.

Taking a few breaths and grabbing a branch to steady herself, Ofelia began to walk towards the promise of water.

It took her a few minutes to notice that the sound of her steps had changed. She was still creeping along as she had before, but now the footfalls seemed a bit louder. There was more of an echo to them, a quiet thud like the treading of a -

She froze. The echoing noise stopped with her, but she strained her ears for something that might come to take its place. Through the leaves and vines, she thought she could sense a pair of eyes locked on to her from the shadows. From beneath the patter of the rain came what sounded like a low growl and a gust of breath. Twigs cracked under the weight of a paw stepping forward.

Ofelia bolted, and so did the jaguar behind her. She was smaller, though, and more easily tore through the sharp thicket. Her pursuer crashed through the tight bonds of the foliage, yowling in anger as though calling for the rest of the pack. She shrieked as its ragged claws cut into the air, barely missing the hem of her robe. Her arms and legs seemed to move of their own accord, channeling energy she hadn’t known she still possessed. The sound of her beating heart and rushing blood dulled out all the noises around her - even the rapidly approaching river.

The ground dropped out from beneath her feet faster than she could realize it. One moment she was pushing her way through the wall of bushes, then she stumbled and was suddenly falling through the open air. Her path had ended at a steep cliff twenty feet high, and at the bottom lay the frothing, rock-laden river.

Ofelia screamed and flailed, a part of her still trying to run and another part trying in vain to stop her fall. Twisting around, she saw the shrinking form of the pursuing jaguar halt at the cliff’s edge, glaring down at her and screaming.

The fall was mercifully short: it seemed only a few moments before she met the water’s surface with the force of a fist and was enveloped in the cold murkiness. She resurfaced at once, gasping for breath and waving her arms about in search of her glasses. The whole world had gone dark and blurry, the river was picking up speed and there were more angry roars coming from somewhere up above.

Taking a deep breath, Ofelia dove back beneath the surface and began to push along with the current.

She hadn’t any idea how long it might have taken: there was no way of guessing the time, only the darkness and faint shards of moonlight that she managed to discern. Perhaps she had passed out and drifted in the water, for the next thing she clearly remembered was the hands that reached down to grab her. Small, spindly hands that began to pull at her limbs with increasing ferocity as the river tried to carry her away. Her first instinct was to kick and struggle, but she was too weak for even that.

The next memory was the distinct sensation of being dragged along the ground, quickly followed by the sting of cold air on her face. When she forced her eyes back open, she was staring at the jungle canopy and the patches of night sky that broke through it. Her fingers grasped at the wet ground beneath her.

A small figure, impossible to know with her eyesight, darted into her field of vision. They said something to her and seemed quite worried, but the ringing in her ears still blocked out all other noises. She shook her head.

The blurry figure produced a small object, then leaned down and tried to shove it onto Ofelia’s face. She jerked back and let out a loud whimper, then froze as the world around her abruptly came back into focus. Her glasses - they had found her glasses.

“Felia? Are you alright? Bry, she’s not saying anything…!”

Now that her sight had returned, she refused to believe it. _“…Vin?”_

A redheaded blur suddenly shoved him out of the way. “See? I knew this would be a good idea!”

* * *

 

There were practically stars in Gabriela’s eyes. “We found you all by ourselves,” she said, admiring her silent friend.

Vicente crossed his arms. “I think we just got lucky.”

“Everyone back home will be so happy!”

 _“Suuuure_ they will….”

The twins had set up a meager campsite not far from the river. Sheltered from the rain by a rocky ledge, they had somehow managed to start a small fire with a pile of sticks and leaves. It was here that they led Ofelia, who hadn’t said a word since being pulled from the water. At this moment she was propped up against the shallow cavern wall, staring at the flickering light and occasionally shivering.

“Here.” Vicente sat down beside her, pried off her sopping, ragged robe and slipped a thick brown coat over her shoulders. “We thought you might need this.”

Ofelia pulled the garment tightly around herself, then slumped against the boy’s side and rested her damp head on his shoulder.

“And _now,”_ Gabriela finished with pride, “all we have to do is wait for the grown-ups to catch up with us!”

Ofelia sat up. “We can’t stay here.”

The other girl frowned. “Why not?”

“They’re still looking for me…”

“Who is?”

She opened her mouth, but the torrent of words refused to come out. Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around her knees, hid her face and started to quietly cry.

Gabriela bit her lip as she stared at the scene before her, not certain of what she had done nor what she should do next. Vicente hesitated for a moment, then placed his hand on Ofelia’s arm. “It’ll be okay…”

She didn’t answer. The silence continued.

“…Hey,” Vicente eventually whispered. “We’ll be home soon, _amiga._ Aunt Maria and Uncle Manolo, they weren’t far from here when we saw them.”

Ofelia raised her head almost immediately. “Mama and Papa are looking for me?”

Gabriela saw her chance to jump into the conversation. “Of course!” she answered. “We’ve all been looking for you, Felia. For days and days.”

The girl’s tears began to subside. Her eyes were still red and glistening, but a look of relief and triumph now lingered in them. She even managed a hint of a smile.

“You know what?” Gabriela continued. “I have an even better idea! We don’t need to wait for your _familia_ to get here. We’ll go to them ourselves!”

Her brother’s smile vanished. “Bry, I don’t think that’s a very good - “

“We should go, then,” Ofelia said, standing up. “I want to go home.”

Vicente tried to thinking of something to say, but settled for a frustrated sigh instead. “Fine…”

In a matter of minutes, the children had gathered up their things and extinguished the fire, which had needed little help putting itself out.

“Do you know how to go back?” Vicente asked his sister, the skepticism still clear on his face.

“I got us here, didn’t I?” she answered with a scowl. “We’ll just go back the way we came.”

“But we don’t know which way that is.”

“You don’t. I do.” Taking off the compass that hung around her neck, Gabriela briefly fiddled with it and then began to walk forward. “It’s this way! _Vamos!”_

Ofelia and Vicente exchanged a look before following her down the invisible path. The sky gradually grew brighter, and the sun began to rise on the three children walking deeper into the jungle.


	12. Chapter 12

Elsewhere in the jungle, hours earlier, another small fire had been steadily burning.

Ixa pulled the ancient, leather-bound book out from the group’s pack of supplies and sat down with it. “There must be something we can use in here…”

Maria looked up from tending the fire. “What’s that?”

“A book Ofelia found. There’s a map inside it.” She undid the crumbling straps, removed the loose scrap of paper and began to sift through the pages. “I thought the rest might prove important as well.”

Manolo had been sitting a short distance away from the rest of the group. Now he got up and sat down beside Ixa, watching the pages turn. “How old is it?” he asked. It was the first thing he had said since they had left the ramshackle village.

“A few centuries, I should think,” she answered. “I’ve seen others like it.” She flipped back to the first page of the book, where a distinct number lay amidst the jumbled handwriting: _1532._

“Looks like there’s a name, too,” Joaquin said, pointing from over her shoulder at a sentence written above the date.

Ixa ran her fingers over the words. “It says ‘Journal of Javier Dominguez,’ I think,” she finally said. “He must have been one of the Old World men who sailed here.” A small frown crossed her face at the memory.

“So what does his journal say?” Maria asked.

Ixa looked back through the first several pages. “Nothing much. Plants found, food eaten, that sort of thing…wait, look at this!”

A crude drawing of a jaguar accompanied the long note on the page marked June 12th. _Native men very frightened of something they saw a few nights ago,_ the writing said. _We have been asked to join some of them on an expedition._ There was a small gap, and then the note continued in much more unkempt letters. _I must write down what happened here at once, or else I shall never believe it afterwards. I have seen the Devil’s work with my own eyes tonight._

The note went on. The conquistador wrote of following jaguar tracks deep into the jungle until he and his men happened upon a valley full of crumbling temples. _They were made of black rock and stretched high into the air despite their ruination. Their steps were covered in dirt and blood, and creatures that were neither man nor cat crawled out from within them to watch the procession of doomed children dragged through the streets._ Watching the tallest pyramid from afar, he described the same ceremony that the travelers had heard whispered about in the village. _The children who cried the loudest were slaughtered and eaten. Those who made no sound at the sight were given hooded cloaks of jaguar skin and led one by one to the altar. The chief of the monsters bound them to the stone with ropes and spoke an incantation, then seemed to call down a beam of the red moonlight to strike the little ones. Then they became as the demons who had captured them were, and were unleashed upon their old companions._ Here the ink lines grew thicker and petered out, as though the man was so overtaken by the terrible memory that he could no longer write. A few final sentences followed, in slightly neater handwriting. _Tonight we strike against the demons. Before we depart, I leave here a map I have drawn that will lead to their temple. If our army succeeds, they will have been wiped from the face of the earth. If we fail, then perhaps these notes will be of use to those who take up our holy cause._ There were no more entries in the little book.

“Well,” Joaquin said, looking at the yellowed map, “I guess that means this is for us.”

Manolo abruptly looked up, stiffening. “Did you hear that?”

They all looked. Something was rustling in the foliage above and around them. Joaquin hid the book and map, then stood up and grabbed a sword from the group’s pile of weapons. “Who’s there?”

The jaguars crawled out from the bushes and dropped from the trees, hissing as their eyes gleamed in the firelight. They kept to the edges of the clearing, growling and pretending to pounce at the mortals. All except one, who strode directly into the camp and around his frozen prey. Finally he sat down and looked at them one by one, letting his gaze linger on Manolo before coming to rest on Joaquin. Then he smiled. “Didn’t I eat part of you some years ago?”

Ixa felt Joaquin shudder and put a hand on his arm. “You are not welcome here, Pax.”

The beast sneered. “I not welcome in my own territory? I fear it is you who are not welcome.”

“You know why we’ve come.”

“To partake in the festivities, no doubt. They will be grand this year. It’s been _such_ a long time since we had a new warrior join our ranks.” His eyes flickered up towards the moon, which was growing darker as though slowly bleeding out.

“We’ll trouble you no further if you give us back the girl now,” Ixa continued. “We swear.”

For an almost invisible moment, something seemed to unsettle Pax. He seemed to shuffle in place and look around towards his warriors, who refused to meet his gaze. It was gone just as quickly as it had come, and he looked back at the humans with newly narrowed eyes. “No.”

“You’ll get no satisfaction from taking her,” Ixa said. “Not in the long run. She’s too pure of heart to be one of your hunters. Even your arts can’t change that.”

“You think I care about how the girl will fare with us?” Pax growled. “I can dispose of her whenever I wish. She’ll only be the first. Besides…” His gaze rested on Manolo and Maria. “…you know why she was chosen.”

“If it’s revenge you want, go after Xibalba,” Ixa said, stepping between the jaguar and the couple. “Punish him instead.”

“You and I both know this is as close to laying a hand on him as I can get.”

“What, so you’ll make a family suffer for the crime of being your lord’s playthings? The way I see it, you and your men are no better off than - “

Pax let out a shriek and leapt forward, knocking Ixa over and pinning her to the ground. The other humans froze in their rush to attack the beast by the sudden shrinking of the deadly circle that surrounded them. The jaguar leaned down, breathing the stench of rotting meat into the woman’s face. _“Never,”_ he snarled, “equate us with mortals.”

“Right, sorry,” Ixa choked out. “Doing us mortals a disservice.”

Pax reared back and raised a paw, letting his long claws slide out from their sheaths. But before he could bring them down, there was a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. In the same moment two loud shots rang out, and the jaguar fell over screaming as blood dripped from the pair of wounds in his arm. The rest of the pack recoiled and fell silent, stunned by the near-forgotten sound. Manolo stood with one of Joaquin’s pistols gripped in his shaking hands, smoke wafting from the barrel as he took aim at the jaguar once more.

_“You,”_ Pax hissed, struggling back to his feet. “Your girl will pay dearly for that, human.”

“If you’ve hurt her, I’ll - “

“Oh, don’t bother. It wouldn’t kill me. “

Manolo’s burst of bravery was starting to falter under the jaguar’s stare. “I don’t want any more of this. I just want - “

“To see your daughter again?” Pax finished. “Oh, you certainly will. Not in the form you remember her, of course, but perhaps that will be better for you both. I can’t imagine she would want to remember her father after what he did to her.” He sidestepped another gunshot. “Come to our temple in a few days’ time, human. There you shall look upon the result of your…assistance.”

And just like that, he was gone. The monster’s shape melted back into the dark, along with those of his men. Manolo dropped the gun and sank to his knees, his fists clenched as he fought back a fresh wave of hot, angry tears. Maria knelt at his side and began whispering into his ear, a hand on his chest as she urged him to breathe. Joaquin scrambled towards his wife and helped her up, ran his hands over her torso and neck, stammered as he asked over and over again if she was alright.

“I’ll be fine,” Ixa said, gently pushing him aside. She was staring out into space, as though trying to imagine where the jaguars had gone. “We need to speak with him again.”

Her husband stared at her in bug-eyed disbelief. “What _for?”_

“He’s hiding something,” she answered. “Something he hadn’t planned on.”

Maria pressed her forehead to Manolo’s, trying to will him to relax. “Listen to me, he wants you to be angry, that’s why you need to stop and think…”

“I am,” he answered. He pulled away from Maria, then took her hands in his and looked up at her. “I’m thinking of how I’m going to kill him.”


	13. Chapter 13

“And see where _that_ idea has gotten you!” Xibalba said, snorting.

“So tell me what you would have done. If you were a mortal.”

The god fell silent, the uncertain look in his eyes flitting between the corners of the room as he tapped his fingers on the head of his cane.

Manolo sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “That’s what I thought.”

“Look, how about you just get to the point and tell me how you did it? That’s all I was sent to find out.”

To his surprise, Manolo flashed him a smile. “Now that you’ve heard why I did it,” he said, “I suppose so.”

* * *

Between the four of them, only a few hours’ sleep was to be had that night; none of it was Manolo’s. He sat a few feet away from his friends, his back against a tree trunk as he flipped through the pages of the old journal again and again. The map sat near his feet, and every few minutes he would pick it up and run his fingers over the markings while murmuring to himself. Joaquin tried more than once to call him back to the campfire, but was sent shuffling away with a hard glance each time.

Eventually Maria approached him, ignoring the way he tensed up when he noticed her. “You’ll think better if you sleep a little,” she said, sitting down beside him. “You must be tired.”

Manolo shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“As fine as any of us can be, right?”

He didn’t answer, instead gesturing to the map. “We need to figure out where we are on this.”

“How’s that gonna work?”

“With the book.” He flipped through the first several pages, showing her the tightly packed lines of writing. “He must have been their cartographer. Look, he wrote down everything important that they passed and where it was. Villages, landmarks, all that stuff. And I was thinking, if we could take a spot from the map and match it to a spot in here…”

“Then we’ll know how far along we already are,” Maria finished.

Manolo grinned and nodded. “Then all we have to do is catch up to them!”

“And…” Maria stopped herself.

“And what?”

“…We’ll figure it out.” She nestled closer to him. “You know, this all seems more like the kind of stuff I’d be doing.”

Manolo paused. “It ought to be me this time,” he said, his voice low and weak.

She nodded. “Would you like some company for a while?”

_“Si, por favor.”_

Maria leaned back against the tree trunk, letting her head loll to one side. Her eyelids had drifted shut before she could realize they were moving: the last time she had slept now seemed like a distant memory. A warm arm wrapped around her body, followed by a soft kiss on her forehead. _“Gracias…”_

She was too tired to dream. Perhaps that was a blessing.

* * *

“Maria! _Maria!_ Wake up!”

Maria opened a bloodshot eye and found herself curled up on the ground, roused from her sleep by a hand shaking her shoulder. “Manolo? What are you…?”

She yelped as he tried hoisting her to her feet. “We need to get going!” he said before hurrying off to tend to the half-asleep Mondragons in the same way. Joaquin shot up like a bullet when shoved over, and Ixa cursed in a smattering of tongues at all the sudden noise.

“Tell us what’s happened first,” Maria said, standing up.

“I figured out the map!”

Joaquin was still stumbling about trying to find his eyepatch and swords. “Great, you go do that…” He stopped as the words sank in. “You _what?”_

Manolo pulled the three of them around him and folded out the yellowed sheet of paper. “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the lower left corner. Near the compass rose, the conquistador had drawn a picture of a dead, blackened tree, its trunk split nearly in half by a bolt of lightning. Just to the east of it passed a thick river that wound its way across the paper, up to the pyramid on the other side of the jungle.

“Okay,” Maria said, realizing the significance of what she was seeing. “How do we find that, though?”

In response, Manolo grabbed her chin and turned her head to face the tree she had been sleeping under. Her jaw dropped as she took in the split trunk and charred bark.

Her husband smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t notice until I kept looking at you last night…”

Joaquin had fished a compass out of his pocket and was now trying to get it aligned correctly. “This way!” he said after a moment, tearing off past the dead tree and into the jungle. The others grabbed their supplies and followed him.

It didn’t take long for the swish of flowing water to reach their ears. Soon they had pushed aside the last of the foliage and found themselves standing on a grassy bank next to a wide, placid river that was winding its way northeast.

Joaquin looked up and down the length of the river, his brows furrowed in deep thought. “We’ll travel faster if we’re able to sail down this.”

“But we don’t have anything to make a boat with,” Manolo said.

“We don’t need to.” Joaquin was now rummaging through one of the group’s packs, pulling out a large, folded sheet of something thick and black. “I told the general this old thing would come in handy sometime!”

It took a while, but eventually he had the thing set up and inflated. It was a large, shallow boat made of black rubber, just long and wide enough for the four of them and their bags. They pushed it into the water, then leapt aboard as the current grabbed them and swept them along.

The boat hung low in the river, and the cold water lapped and splashed at its sides. Sharp rocks jutted out from beneath the surface, cutting through the small waves: the travelers pushed themselves away from them with the hefty branches serving as their oars. The river soon rounded a bend and grew more narrow: the trees seemed to grow closer together and further out from the shore, coiling over the boat to form a thick, dark canopy.

Manolo unfolded the map and ran a finger over the winding line. A small note was scribbled near it: _two or three days along river, with good current._ He looked up towards the canopy, trying to remember what the moon had looked like the night before. Would there be enough time?

A dark flash of movement along the branches above caught his eye. At the same moment, he felt Joaquin grab him by the arm. “Look,” the other man whispered, pointing to the shore.

Lithe, shadowy shapes with glowing eyes prowled through the trees, keeping abreast of the boat. The pack had never left.

Maria pulled a sword and pistol out from the bag of weapons. “I’ll take care of them,” she said with a dark look as she readied the gun.

“Not too quickly,” Ixa said, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the shore in search of Pax.

Joaquin raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am. I want to learn what they know – it may help.”

Manolo glanced up, and then gasped. _“Look out!”_

A jaguar had detached itself from the canopy and was hurtling down towards the boat, shrieking as it unsheathed its claws. Joaquin raised an oar and smacked it aside as it came close. It yowled in pain, disappeared beneath the churning waves, then resurfaced paddling after the boat.

That seemed to be the cue for the rest of the pack to surge forward and leap into the river. Soon a dozen spotted heads were cutting through the water, closing in on the sides and back of the boat. The current began to grow more fast and choppy as the boat rounded another bend.

Manolo and Maria shot at the ones who started to gain on them: their bullets whizzed across the river’s surface, sending up a spray of foam and startling the cats enough to make floating a struggle. Those who came near enough to try clawing at the boat were greeted with the flat side of a sword against their heads. Joaquin stayed up front and kept rowing, every now and then taking another swing at the jaguars which dropped from above. Ixa kept her eyes glued to the shore, where Pax was keeping an eye on the scene before him as he prowled.

_Still no sign of her,_ Ixa thought. Perhaps they were keeping her somewhere? No, that wouldn’t be it: not with all the souls who hated Pax in this part of the jungle. He wouldn’t risk letting her be found. And with the way he had hesitated the night before…

She stood up. “You,” she shouted at the jaguar, “are _without a doubt_ the most miserable warrior I’ve ever seen!”

“What are you _doing?”_ Joaquin said, staring at her in horror.

“Watch.”

Pax paused, then growled and kept up his chase with renewed rage. “What place has Tlaloc’s weakest daughter to be speaking ill of someone like me?”

“I know weakness when I see it,” Ixa continued. “No true warrior would allow himself to be bested in a fight by a girl such as ours!”

Pax reared up on his hind legs, clenching his fists as they morphed into being. _“What?”_

“You heard me! It’s a disgrace – the so-called Jaguar King bested by a child! And not just any child, but a _mortal!”_

The jaguar’s response slipped from his mouth before he could stop it: “There was no fight, the little coward slipped away under cover of dark!”

Manolo and Maria froze, while Ixa’s face lit up as she smirked. “So you admit it.”

The boat suddenly shifted beneath her feet, knocking her off-balance. They were dropping down a series of short, jagged falls as the river grew ever faster. Below them stretched white, frothing rapids, shadowed in mist and roaring with the sounds of water bashing against rock. The jaguars saw it as well and split apart, making for shore and leaving the little vessel to its fate. It careened over the last fall and was instantly swept out of sight, vanishing into the haze.

One by one, the members of the pack convened on the shore where they had left their leader. Pax was still staring at the spot of the river where the boat had last been, his whole body faintly quivering.

One of his warriors failed to see what was brewing within. “We can leave them, can’t we, master? They won’t survive the – “

Pax swung a paw and struck the jaguar across the face, drawing blood and knocking him into the river. “After them!” he snarled at the others, now cowering. _“Now!”_

* * *

Far off in the trees, something that was pretending to be a branch opened its large yellow eyes. “Is he gone…?”

“For now.” _Ribbit._ “Come along, we haven’t much time.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To find that human girl.”

_“Human?!?_ Oh no no no no, nobody said anything about humans!”

“What did you think those four ugly things were?”

“Those were humans? And now there’s more of them? Here?” There was a pause, then a manic rustling of leaves and feathers. “Zuma? _Zuma, don’t leave me! Not with the **humans!”**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our young heroes make some new friends. Maybe.

Ofelia stopped in her tracks and looked around. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Gabriela asked.

“I heard someone. A voice.”

The other girl looked bewildered. “Around here?”

“I think it came from up in the trees. It was yelling.”

By now Vicente had doubled back to see what was going on. “What did it sound like?” he asked.

“Small…frightened. Not like the jaguars.” Ofelia looked back up toward the canopy. “It said something about humans.”

The twins’ eyebrows both shot up. “What do you think it was?” Vicente whispered, glancing around.

“Maybe a bird?” his sister offered.

“But Felia said it talked!”

“Birds talk, can’t they? Sometimes…?”

Ofelia had gone silent: she was wandering through her own thoughts, instinctively running her mind over the words of her storybooks back home. Wasn’t there one about children getting lost in a forest and led astray by fairies who whispered to them from the shadows?

She shook her head. “We should keep going,” she said, pushing apart the bickering twins as she walked past them.

They exchanged a puzzled glance, then looked back at her. “What about the bird-thing?”

“I just imagined it, I think.” At least she hoped she had.

* * *

“Bird-thing? That doesn’t sound very polite.” Feathers ruffled.

“Perhaps it means something better when the humans say it.”

_Ribbit._ “I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Hush, all three of you! They’ll hear us!”

“I thought that was the idea!”

“Pax is still looking for them. We get their attention, we get his.”

“So what do we do, then?”

“We wait for them to get good and lost.”

There was a great flapping. “B-But humans can’t get lost!”

“These ones will.”

“Bry?” Vicente called out, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun.

She grumbled something under her breath as she turned back around and walked towards her brother. “What?”

“Are you sure that compass is working?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because we’ve been going in a big circle all day.”

The girl’s face crinkled in disgust at the idea. “No, we haven’t!”

“Have too! We’ve passed that same tree six times now!”

“You can’t prove that.”

“I counted!” He drew his wooden sword and scratched a tally mark in the dark brown bark of the tree they were standing beneath, right next to five other crude lines.

Gabriela stared at the tree with bugged-out eyes, then at her compass. The rusted little arrow spun merrily around on its post as she tipped the instrument left and right. Muttering a few words that her mother often yelled in a strange tongue when angry, she sank to the ground. “The boys at school charged me twenty pesos for this old thing. _Twenty…!”_

Ofelia sat down away from the twins, leaning against a tree and looking up at the branches. A dark, cat-like shape seemed to slink across the treetop: the girl stiffened at the sight, and withdrew further into the bundle she had made of herself.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a spot of green and brown move against the black earth. Her head whipped about, only for her to relax as she saw a small frog crouching by her foot. It croaked a few times as it stared up at her, its large, dark eyes filled with sagacity.

Ofelia sighed and sat back against the tree once more. “It would be nice if you could help us…”

The frog took a few hops towards her, and then opened its mouth. “I wouldn’t need to if you humans had a better sense for which way is which!”

Ofelia’s scream jerked the twins out of their argument: they looked up just in time to see her leap to her feet and run towards them, away from a frog which was now hopping towards all three of them. “Come now,” it said, “that’s no way to greet someone of my standing.”

The twins’ jaws dropped. Gabriela fell to her knees and scrambled to find her wooden sword, picking up an old, thick branch by mistake. “Get back or I’ll…”

_“Let go of me!”_ The branch shrieked and opened two bulging yellow eyes as it began to wriggle in her hands. Gabriela screamed and threw it into the air, where it transformed into a mass of feathers and flew headfirst into a tree trunk.

By now Vicente had found his own sword and was charging at the creatures when a deep voice stopped everyone in their tracks. “Let us have no more of _that,_ please.”

The children slowly looked up. Perched on a branch above them were two creatures: a stout ocelot looking down with disdain, and a black and white coati with less wariness about it. The cat leapt to the ground and began to circle around the mortals. “There isn’t any use trying to run. We’ve been tracking you for a while now. You had best come with us before we have any more trouble. Now which of you is the child that Pax has been taking to Tehuantepec?”

“I’m not going back.”

The ocelot fixed its eyes on Ofelia. “Oh?”

“You heard me!” she said, a little louder as her small hands balled into fists. “I’m not going back to those jaguars!”

“To the jaguars?” the coati said; its voice was soft, almost motherly. “Oh no, child. We have no business with Pax and his kind.”

Vicente scowled. “Prove it!”

The ocelot looked at him askance. “Look at Huitzil there if you want proof,” he said, gesturing to the strange bird. It was now whimpering quietly as it tried to bury itself in the dirt.

Ofelia carefully approached the bird called Huitzil and put out her hand. “Are you frightened of them too?”

At the touch of her hand, it recoiled and plastered itself against the tree trunk. “D-Don’t hurt m-me, _por favor!_ I’m certain I taste terrible!”

“I’m not going to hurt you, _señor._ I don’t think people eat…whatever it is you are.”

Huitzil puffed out his brownish-gray feathers. “A potoo, I’ll have you know. In a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“He means we four take the shapes of the creatures here which we have sworn to protect,” the frog answered. “I am Zuma. These…” He nodded to the coati and the ocelot. “…are Metnal and Teoxi. You may consider us friends.”

_“Gracias,”_ Ofelia said, nodding hesitantly. “M-My name’s Ofelia…”

Teoxi looked at her with renewed interest. “Ofelia Sanchez, by any chance?”

Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“The gods of Aztlan have been speaking the name Sanchez often as of late,” Huitzil said. “Even we have heard it! That’s how you know it’s important. We hardly ever get the news out here.”

“What about the name Mondragon?” Gabriela asked.

The potoo scuffled away from her, its eyes downcast. “I wouldn’t know.”

“The only important thing,” Zuma said, giving them all the evil eye, “is that Pax knows of these things as well.”

“Who is he, exactly?” said Ofelia. “And how do you know so much about him?”

“He was a warrior king in the old days,” Metnal said, climbing down from the tree. “He held great power over mortals and spirits alike.” She and her companions shuddered at the memory. “Now all that remains of his empire is his citadel in the east.”

“I think he mentioned it a few times. He called it Tehuantepec, didn’t he?”

Teoxi nodded. “He needs the blood and souls of children to get his old powers back, and if he manages _that,_ we’re all done for. Now, Zuma and Huitzil say they’ve seen four humans wandering around this part of the jungle…”

Ofelia perked up. “That must be our mamas and papas!”

“We can guide you to them if you wish,” the ocelot continued. “And perhaps back towards your home.”

“Hold on,” Vicente said. “How would you do that?”

“Your families live in a village called San Angel, do they not?”

“Yes, but – “

“Oh, I remember hearing that!” Huitzil exclaimed. “It’s the center of the universe, you know. Sacred ground for us spirits. All the lines of magic in the world meet at that one spot!”

“Yes, yes,” Zuma said, rolling his eyes. “And Tehuantepec sits on one of these lines as well; your parents will be traveling along it. We find that line, we find them.”

“And you know where it is?” Vicente asked.

“Of course! I can lead the way.”

The twins were about to say something else, but Ofelia stepped forward before they could. “We would be grateful if you did, _señora.”_

The coati nodded and smiled, then began to march off into the jungle with Huitzil and the children trailing behind.

Vicente grabbed the arm of Ofelia’s coat. “Do you really trust them?” he whispered into her ear.

“I trust her,” she whispered back. “Her and the bird.”

Teoxi and Zuma lingered behind the others, huddling together. “Pax will be looking for her, you know,” the frog said.

“He won’t be able to turn her after the red moon passes,” the ocelot answered. “We keep them away from him until then. After that he can do with them what he pleases.”


	15. Chapter 15

The rapids, when all was said and done, were little better than the jaguars. They snatched up the little raft in cold jaws and tossed it about, watching it spin around, smash against the shore, narrowly miss colliding with the most jagged of the rocks. Joaquin, Ixa and Maria grabbed their oars at the first sight of the danger, and they were soon furiously struggling to keep themselves upright and sailing straight – the fourth member of their party had suddenly found himself quite indisposed.

At last the river slowed down and fanned out. The mortals fancied they might have come to a lake, or at least a bend in their road with the appearance of one. The water was placid, the shores on either side visible but indistinct. Ixa dragged a length of rope out from what remained of their supplies and cast one end of it over the side: when she brought it back up and found the water shallow, she tied a rock to the same end and the rest to the side of the raft. The makeshift anchor did its work when sent overboard, and the vessel quickly ground to a halt.

Manolo was jolted out of his daze by the sudden stop. “What are you doing? We have to keep going!” He scrambled towards the other end of the raft, trying to snatch the rope and pull it back up.

Joaquin gently held his arms and tried to sit him back down, his grip tightening against the smaller man’s violent squirming. “We need to have a talk before we do anything else – “

With a final wrench, Manolo freed himself from his friend’s grasp, whirled around to face him and grabbed his shoulders. “She’s _alive_ , Joaquin!” He was grinning, and there was more than a hint of pride in the light that was coming back into his eyes.

Joaquin tried his best not to look at it, hating to snuff it out again. “Manny, we don’t know that for sure…”

Manolo frowned and furrowed his brows. “What else could have happened?”

_“A lot of things._ With the stupid talking cats, bad. On her own, _also_ bad. Now first things first, we should…”

Manolo had already stopped listening and was trying to pull the anchor up again. This time, however, a different pair of hands grabbed his own. “Remember what I told you last night,” Maria said, turning his face towards hers. “About needing to stop and think.”

His fingers loosened their grip on the rope, and she gently took it from him.

“Now,” Maria said once her husband had sat back down, “you were saying, Joaquin?”

Joaquin started to speak, but Ixa cut him off. “We ought to track the jaguars.”

Her companions’ mouths dropped open as they stared at her. “What?”

“They’ll be looking for her. We follow them and we find her, _si?”_

“And what are we supposed to do if they figure that out?” Joaquin asked.

“You’re the one who brought the guns and swords.” She looked at Manolo and Maria. “Shall we go, then?”

Manolo nodded when Maria glanced at him. “Yes,” she said, backing it up with a brusque nod a few moments later.

They pulled up the anchor, rowed the raft to the nearest shore and jumped out into the shallow water, dragging their supplies after them. Joaquin waited until Manolo and Maria were out of earshot, then whispered to his wife. “How are we supposed to track them?”

“That’s what Pax wants,” she answered. “He said it himself.”

* * *

Looking through his telescope, Vicente thought he saw a familiar flash of red hair on the other side of the lake. “Come and look at this, Bry.”

A bright green blob crawled over the lens, and the moment was gone.

“What is it?” Gabriela asked as she approached with Huitzil perched on her shoulder.

“I saw something over there!”

“Unless you want to get eaten,” Zuma said, glaring at the boy, “I suggest you not trifle yourself with such things.”

Vicente glared back. “My papa says the best way to not get eaten is to always be aware of your surroundings.”

“Yes, well, that’s our job. Much easier for us folk. You’re better at following orders. At least I would have thought so.”

Teoxi rubbed against the boy’s leg, pushing him back towards the rest of the group. “He’s right, you know. Feeding Huitzil to them when they catch up will only work once.”

The potoo shrank back and puffed up his feathers. “T-That’s not funny…!”

“What? It’s logic.”

Gabriela crossed her arms and looked at the ocelot in her best imitation of her mother’s judgemental glance. “We call that leaving a man behind, and you shouldn’t do it to anyone. Even if they’re a bird.”

Huitzil perked up. _“Si!_ What she said! Is that really a human thing?” he added as the girl turned on her heel and walked off.

“Of course it is.”

“Oh, I like that human thing.”

Ofelia was waiting for them back where the foliage gave way to well-trodden dirt. Her thin frame seemed to be growing even thinner, especially when wrapped in the folds of the oversized coat. She sat against a tree trunk, pulling twigs and leaves out of her curls as she kept her eyes focused above her. When the twins and their guides marched back towards her with something new to argue about, she stood up without saying a word and fell to the back of the motley procession.

That evening they came across a small clearing and built a fire. Vicente attempted to roast some fruit that the twins had found without much luck, while Gabriela regaled the four spirits with stories about San Angel. Metnal and Huitzil hung on every word, the latter with eyes bugged out in shock and glee. Zuma pretended not to be paying attention but could be seen inching closer to the girl with each new twist and turn in her narratives. Teoxi sat away from the group, his ears perked up and his eyes locked on the edges of the clearing. Ofelia huddled the closest to the fire, looking over at Gabriela every few minutes and then letting her gaze wander off again.

She was the only one to notice Teoxi stand up and slink off into the trees, and she did the same.

“What do you want?” the ocelot growled when he noticed her.

“I saw you leave.”

“Yes, I assumed that…”

“I wanted to know if everything was still alright.”

“You mean if Pax has tracked you down or not.”

The girl hesitated, and then nodded.

“Not yet, I’m afraid. Doesn’t mean they can’t be close.” Teoxi glared at her. “You’d be much safer back at the fire if you’re that worried, you know.”

“I’d rather stay close to you, if you don’t mind, _señor.”_

He stopped. This was new. “And why would that be?”

Ofelia sat down. “I think you understand better than the others.”

“Understand what?”

She was quiet for a few moments. “What it’s like being near those things,” she finally whispered. “Vin and Bry still think it’s some kind of game. They weren’t there when…” She trailed off and let her head sink against her knees. “I just want to see Papa and Mama again. I want to tell them I’m sorry. I want to go home.”

Teoxi said nothing.

After a while, Ofelia looked up again. “Did he ever chase you? The… _him,_ I mean.” Pax’s name seemed to stick in her throat.

Teoxi scowled. “Maybe once or twice. No worse than what your kind has done to us.” He turned around and began to stalk back towards the clearing. “Come, it’s about time we – “

A searing pain suddenly pricked the underside of his front paw and spread through it. He let out a yowl as he stumbled and fell over.

Ofelia was at his side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“You stay away!”

“I just want to see if I can help.” She took his paw in both her hands and gently felt around it, soon happening upon the intrusion. “It’s only a little thorn. Shall I put it out for you?”

“I don’t need you to…” Teoxi tried to jerk away from her, only to wince. “…yes, please.”

“Alright. Stay still.” She grabbed the thorn. _“Uno, dos, tres.”_

Teoxi growled and then sighed as the thorn came out, taking the pain with it. He flexed his paw a few times, making sure he could still use it. _“Gracias,”_ he muttered when he was satisfied.

“It’s the least I can do for you,” Ofelia answered. “Especially after all you’ve been doing for us.”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t have to guide us out of here, and I know you don’t like humans. So I appreciate you being so kind to us, _señor.”_

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

Ofelia shrugged. “My mama and papa say it’s good manners.”

Teoxi nodded as though lost in thought. “Your parents. Is it true they have met Pax before?”

“I think so…”

“And they have come here to fight him again for your sake?”

“Yes.”

“Then they are the bravest mortals I’ve heard of,” the ocelot answered. “And they have good reason for what they do.”

Ofelia smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re – “ Teoxi stopped, his eyes widening as he sniffed the air.

“What is it?”

“Get back to the fire,” he whispered. “Tell the others that Pax is coming.”


	16. Chapter 16

Pax breathed in the evening air and drew back his lips as he found the scent he had been looking for. The yelp of pain came only a moment later, and then he knew he was right: that fool Teoxi’s voice was unmistakable. “Follow me,” he whispered to his pack, who had gathered around him. “We take back the girl and kill the rest.” Shifting into his upright form, he unsheathed his claws and started to hack through the foliage with loud, powerful swipes.

One of the jaguars dared to speak up. “Should we not move quietly, master?”

They all recoiled as he whirled back around; his eyes were bloodshot from the stress of the day, and the long scar sloping down his face was looking more red than usual. “I said _follow me,”_ he snarled.

* * *

Ofelia burst into the clearing with Teoxi at her side. “We need to get out of here!”

The twins, Zuma and Metnal looked up at her and fell silent. Huitzil’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull as a scream tried to escape his throat. “W-W-What do you mean?!?”

Teoxi glared at him. “No time for any of that. The pack’s on its way.”

They all jumped to their feet at that, the spirits huddling together as Vicente gathered up what little supplies they had and shoveled dirt on the fire to snuff it out.

“How close are they?” Gabriela asked.

“Close enough that you shouldn’t waste time arguing with us!” the ocelot snapped at her.

“But then trying to run won’t do us any good, will it?”

“So what should we do instead, hide and wait for them to sniff us out?”

“I’m not…” Gabriela squinted and shielded her eyes from the sudden spot of light that seemed to come out of nowhere. “Vin, put that away!”

Vicente was fumbling with the lens that popped out of his telescope. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to clean it!”

“Wait.” Approaching her friend, Ofelia took the lens and examined it. As she held it up, the glass caught the rays of light from the sunset and bent them into a small, bright dot that flickered across the ground.

The hints of a smile flickered across the girl’s lips. “I think I have an idea.”

* * *

When the bulk of the jaguar pack came tearing into the clearing, all they found was the smoldering, dirt-covered remains of a campfire. No belongings dropped in haste, nor any footprints leading away. The prey seemed to be long gone.

The pack dispersed at the sound of Pax’s footsteps, shrinking away from the reach of his claws as he entered the clearing. His eyes and nostrils flared at the sight before him. “Where are they?”

“They’ve gone, master – “

The unlucky creature let out a shriek as Pax lunged out and slashed him across the face, drawing forth thick rivulets of blood. In the branches above, the seven figures nestling together flinched in unison.

“Mortals cannot move that quickly,” he hissed. “Certainly not children.”

Vicente felt Ofelia grab his hand in both of hers. “Now?” he whispered as he tightened his grip on the lens of the spyglass.

“Now.”

A number of the jaguars abruptly perked up, their eyes growing wide in wonder as they all stared in the same direction. “Master!” one of them cried out. “Look at that!”

Dancing across the ground was a tiny, glowing creature that bounced with an enticing rhythm. The jaguars all stopped and stared at it, their heads moving in tandem as their gaze followed the strange new plaything.

Even Pax found that he was not quite immune. Shaking himself out of the trance, he lunged forward and brought a paw down on the creature, intending to crush it. But one moment it was there, and suddenly it was not. His paw seemed to have passed right through it, or perhaps it could flee from him just that quickly. There it was again, a few feet away, still carrying on with its merry dance. Again he launched himself at it, now reaching out with both paws, and again it was able to dart off in the blink of an eye. The trance was coming back, if it had ever left.

Surely it must be some sort of illusion, Pax thought. Something which those infernal spirits had conjured up to trick him with. Or that water spirit traveling with the three mortals, she might have some magic left in her. But none of them would have magic powerful enough to hold the attention of his pack, not for this long.

_The pack!_ As soon as he thought of them, his worst fear suddenly came true. One of his warriors simply couldn’t control himself any longer; he ran past Pax and pounced on the creature, yowling with claws and teeth bared. And that, it seemed, was all that the rest of the weak-minded fools needed to break apart. They all went charging after the glowing creature as it seemed to dart away into the jungle, trampling over each other and mostly over their master.

By the time Pax was able to pick himself up out of the dirt, the other jaguars had gone with only their rapidly fading cries pointing out their path. That and the shredded foliage lying in the wake of their madness.

Choking down the yowl of rage building in his throat, he dropped to all fours once again and ran off after his warriors. For a few precious moments, the matter of the missing girl had been forgotten.

Huitzil emerged from his hiding place first, falling out of the tree as he gaped at the scene which had just played out before him. “Why, I-I’ve never _seen_ such powerful magic!”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Gabriela said, the next to slide down. “You should see my papa use that to start a fire and – “

She yelped as Huitzil nearly tackled her. _“Teach me,”_ the potoo whispered as though he had just learned of a magnificent secret.

Metnal resisted the urge to laugh. “Perhaps later.”

Vicente followed Teoxi and Zuma back to the earth, helping Ofelia along as he did so. “I’d say that will keep them busy for a while yet,” he said, grinning.

“You really think so?” Her hand still gripped his, but her fearful expression had softened

_“Ay!_ If your papa could have seen it…” He trailed off. _“…Lo siento.”_

His friend seemed not to heed the careless words. “We can tell him about it when we find him,” she answered. “I know we will.”

Then she smiled – just a little one – and Vicente couldn’t find the words for what a welcome sight it was.

Metnal sniffed the dirt, crinkled her face and then proceeded to plunge her whole snout into the dark earth. When she resurfaced, her body was rigid and her expression determined. “We need to head southeast at once.”

“What did you find?” Gabriela asked.

“The leyline’s growing stronger. You can feel the magic all heading in one direction now. We mustn’t be far from Tehuantepec.”


	17. Chapter 17

The sun continued to set, and the seven travelers walked the other way. Huitzil flew overhead, dipping up and down as he scanned the horizon every few seconds. Metnal trotted at the front of the group, shoveling the dirt with her nose. First the rocks and foliage began to thin out, and then the trees followed. Most of the ones left were covered with gashes from teeth and claws, and some were only ragged stumps. Soon each footstep came with the sound of a faint crunch; it was the bones that lay scattered across the ground, large and small, worn and forgotten. Gabriela trudged on through them, while Vicente brushed them aside with his feet to make a path for Ofelia.

Huitzil finally swooped back to earth. “I can’t see anything!” he said, panting.

“You won’t be able to from where we are now,” Metnal answered.

Gabriela frowned. “But I thought you said this place wasn’t far away.”

“That I did.” The coati beckoned the rest of the group onwards. “Pax and his warriors would not build their city for any traveler to stumble across. It’s hidden to eyes looking upon it from the outside.”

Eventually they found themselves walking alongside the base of a tall cliff, and they came to the base of a tall, wide waterfall. The roar of the current drowned out any other sound, and the water created a veil of mist and foam as it crashed against the brown jagged rocks lining the bottom of the fall. A few flat slabs lay in their midst, tucked just behind the curtain of water; Metnal jumped from the riverbank on to the closest of these and waited for her friends to follow. None of them saw the muddy footprints preceding their own as they jumped between platforms, trying to shield themselves from the water. Running down the cliff face was a deep fissure, parting the rock to reveal another narrow pathway, and this the travelers squeezed themselves into.

Vicente shuddered at the lack of space between the two walls; there was barely enough room for them all to walk single-file. “So now what?”

“We’re past the barrier,” Teoxi answered. “Now we’ll arrive soon enough.”

The corridor came to a sudden end, pushing its occupants out through another fissure and on to a wide, rocky plateau bathed in light. When the children could see again, they gasped at what lay before them.

They were standing on a ledge overlooking a long plain, at the top of a worn staircase carved out of the cliffside. It sloped down and formed a wide stone avenue that cut across the tall grass, reaching out into the heart of the jungle. Tall pyramids, crumbling and covered with thick vines, lined the main road like tombs in a graveyard. Rotting, swinging bridges criss-crossed the flat summits. Water poured down from fissures in the gray stones, cascading down the pyramid steps to form small lakes or simply flood the streets. The very ground of the city bulged and heaved in places under all the weight it was carrying; it seemed that perhaps the whole place was sinking deeper into the earth.

“Is this that place the jaguars were talking about?” Ofelia asked, suppressing a shudder.

“Tehuantepec?” Metnal said. “Yes, it is.”

“Will Mama and Papa really be down there?”

“If they’ve managed to find their way this far,” Teoxi answered. “Only one way to find out.”

* * *

Ixa looked back in the direction from which she and the others had come. “Did you hear that?” she asked her husband.

Joaquin’s grip on his sword tightened when he heard her. “Hear what?”

“A voice, I think. Like an echo.” She shook her head. “Perhaps it was nothing.”

“Don’t mention it, then,” he said. “This place already gives me the creeps.”

They had dutifully followed the course of the river to the point marked on the map, and then ventured behind the waterfall as the conquistador’s journal had told them to. On the other side they had found this dismal field of overgrown, falling-apart temples. No jaguars in sight, though. Not any living soul. But the pack had been trying to take Ofelia here, hadn’t they? If they’d managed to find her again, then this was where she would be.

Manolo wanted to believe it, and yet the thought made him shudder. _“Mija?”_ he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. The sound echoed off the temple walls and faded away without an answer.

Maria grabbed his arm and placed a finger to her lips. “Not so loud. They might hear.”

_I hope they do,_ he thought. If they had returned here to lick their wounds, then he could finish off Pax. _No, not yet. Ofelia first._ He nodded to his wife, unsheathed his sword and set off down the main path towards the center of the city.

The jaguars would be hiding her somewhere until the time was right, no doubt. Pax wouldn’t want to risk her escaping again. What sort of place, though?

Something in the corner of his vision abruptly shifted, and he turned to look. At the foot of one of the smaller structures, a pile of loosely stacked rocks covered up what had once been a doorway. One had tumbled down; through the hole it left behind, Manolo could see specks of light wildly glinting.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Joaquin asked him as he started pulling the rest of the stones aside.

“Come help me!”

The four of them were able to clear the pile in a few minutes, revealing the low, dark passageway. Manolo ducked his head and went in first; a moment later, he drew back when something crunched underneath his foot. Grabbing the flashlight that Joaquin held out to him, he switched it on.

They all gasped at what they saw – dozens of skeletons, perhaps hundreds, lying curled up and packed together on the pyramid floor. Weapons and armor littered the ground as well. Most were rusted breastplates and shields, ridged helmets, lances and muskets. Scattered amongst them were clubs, axes, obsidian spears and blowguns.

“What _is_ all this?” Maria said.

Ixa looked around. “It must be where those who fought here last buried their dead.” Her hand went to the journal tucked in the pack slung over her shoulder.

Manolo held up the flashlight and ventured deeper into the room, stepping around the bones. “Something’s back there.”

“Can you see what it is?” Maria asked.

“I think it’s a sword?”

“Leave it, then!”

He shook his head. “This one doesn’t look like the others.”

It did on the surface, perhaps. An ancient rapier lying in the grasp of a long-dead conquistador, its blade covered in dried blood and rust. Yet the surface had not quite gone dull; a faint golden light seemed to be emanating from the metal. A rosary hung from the other end, carefully tied around the sword’s handle; it held fast when he pulled the weapon out from between the dead man’s fingers.

The others gave him strange looks when he emerged from the cavern carrying the sword. He shrugged, as though anticipating their question. “Maybe we’ll have a reason to use it.”

Joaquin touched the rosary. “What’d they do that to it for?”

“They might have known something we don’t about those things.”

Maria looked at the sword, and then up at the sky. The moon had begun to rise, casting its deep red light across the jungle. “Then if we’re going to use it, we need to hurry.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Did you know then that their priest had blessed the sword?” Xibalba asked.

Manolo answered him with a halfhearted nod. “I suspected.”

“And that was what you used on him.”

“Of course. I couldn’t have done it with a normal weapon, you said that yourself.” He shifted in his seat. “You can go now if you’d like.”

Xibalba raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

“You said you were sent to find out why I’d done it and how I’d done it. I’ve told you.”

His expression was solemn and unmoving. If he was looking for a certain answer, Xibalba couldn’t fathom what it was supposed to be. Instead he wetted his lips, tried not to make eye contact and gave the first response that had popped into his head. “I’d like to hear the rest of what happened. If you don’t mind telling it.”

To his surprise, Manolo nodded. “I thought you would say that.”

“Is that a yes?”

Manolo looked down at the broken pair of glasses that were still sitting in his lap. “We’re almost done, anyway.”

* * *

Ofelia was the first to notice the distinctive color of the rising moon. Gabriela saw her freeze and start to tremble, then followed her gaze upwards. “Um…what’s that?” she asked, already knowing she would rather not hear the answer.

Zuma shrank back at the sight, while Huitzil nearly choked on his own shriek before Metnal and Teoxi hushed him. “It means Ofelia would be out of time if she were still with Pax,” the coati said.

The redheaded girl started to relax. “But she isn’t - “

“He has until the moon is at its highest point to find her again,” Zuma said. “And he knows it. If he’s close, he’ll be on us as soon as he’s got our scent.”

“Then what do we do?” Ofelia asked.

“Hide until we know the danger’s past,” Metnal answered. “At least he’ll have no power to turn you then.”

Gabriela frowned. “So what’ll be his plan after that?”

The four spirits didn’t answer.

Ofelia stepped closer to Gabriela and reached for Vicente’s hand; when she tried to grasp the latter, however, she found only the empty air. “Vin? Where’d you go? Vin!” She drifted away from the rest of the group, quickening her pace as she spotted a familiar form climbing towards the top of a nearby pyramid.

“What’s she doing?” Teoxi hissed under his breath. “It’s not safe!”

The other four travelers started after her, but she was already running, focused on her friend and on the dark, fluid shapes creeping up behind him.

* * *

Vicente didn’t hear the jaguars coming; his own heavy footfalls obscured their light steps.

The levels of the pyramid were easier to climb than they looked; high and steep, yes, but not impassable with a jump and a good grip. He hoped Bry was watching. She had been the one who had nudged him and said, with that telltale glint in her eyes, that she would bet he couldn’t reach the top.

Scaling the final step, he walked out onto the flat, square plateau that was the structure’s roof. One of the narrow wooden bridges started here, curving as it ran up into the branches of a tall, thick tree. They were on the outskirts of the city now, and the jungle was closing back in around them. Looking down, he saw one of the long, muddy ponds that was fed through a gash in the pyramid’s brickwork and flowed off through a fissure in the ground.

He pulled out his telescope and peered through the eyepiece. Further ahead, the trees began crowding closer together once more and overpowering the buildings. Only one managed to rise above it, the tall temple which the spirits had told them they must stay away from. As Vicente watched, the moon began to rise from behind it; he shuddered as he took in the site of its dark red glow.

The boy wondered if his companions had seen it already, and that thought made him wonder where his companions even were. Putting away the telescope, he was preparing to climb back down when a flash of movement not far off caught his eye. Something was in the trees, watching him.

Vicente reached for the telescope again, then realized that he didn’t need it to know what he was looking at. The shining yellow eyes told enough.

_“They’re coming!”_ he managed to scream before a large paw lunged out of the growing darkness to strike him off his feet and pin him down as soon as he landed. Then a snarling face was looming over his, putrid saliva dripping down from its jaws.

“You’re a rather slow one, I see,” said Pax.

He shoved the small human towards the waiting claws of his fellow warriors. “We don’t have much time left. Take this one to the temple.”

The other jaguars hesitated and kept looking at him. “Are we using this one instead, my lord?” one of them asked. “What about the girl?”

With a smirk, Pax glanced towards the lower steps of the pyramid. A small figure was dragging herself up one ledge after another as fast as she could, while her friends ran behind screaming for her to stop.

“Oh, we’ll have her again soon enough,” he said. “She’ll be begging us to take her back.”

* * *

The jaguars were already halfway across the bridge with Vicente when Ofelia reached the top of the pyramid. Her arms and legs seemed to move of their own accord - or perhaps they didn’t - as she darted out onto the shaking boards after them. “Let him go!”

Most of the pack flinched, snarled and nearly broke into a sprint at the sound of her voice, but Pax held up a paw and they fell still. Rearing back up into his two-legged form, he started to approach Ofelia. “And so we meet again, little cub.”

Ofelia balled her hands into fists and glared back at him, but she couldn’t stop herself from trembling. “I said let my friend go.”

The jaguar smiled. “And what would you give us in exchange for him?”

“She won’t give you a thing!” Metnal shouted as the rest of the group reached the top of the pyramid and hurried to the edge of the bridge. “It’s going to be alright, dear, just come back to - “

“I’m not leaving without Vin!” she shouted back.

“And I am not leaving without a child for my altar,” Pax said. “Which shall it be?”

Ofelia looked past the monster, towards the spot where the rest of them were struggling to keep Vicente contained. He had managed to free his upper half long enough to shake his head and mouth a single word; _Don’t!_

She tried not to look at him after that. “I know what you want,” she said to Pax, her voice clear and raised. “If you let him go…” She had to grip the side of the bridge to keep herself steady. “…then I’ll go with you. Right now.”

A smirk spread across Pax’s lips. “Is that a promise, little one?”

She nodded. “It’s a promise.”

_“No!”_ Vicente shouted. With one last wrench, he tumbled out of the jaguars’ grasp and rushed towards his friend.

Pax swung one paw to knock the boy backwards, and with the other he dragged Ofelia towards him by the arm. “Dispose of the others!” he called to his men.

The color drained from Ofelia’s face. _“What?”_

“Gods have no business holding up bargains with mortals.”

When Vicente’s world finally stopped spinning, the first thing he saw was his sister dragging him by the leg, trying to get him back across the bridge. “Get up, _tonto!”_

“What for…?”

She started to point at something behind him, then screamed as the bridge swung, groaned and sagged in the middle.

The frayed ropes broke with ease under the force of a few claw swipes. With a loud, sickening crack, the bridge split in two and both halves went swinging down towards the earth. The jaguars climbed up one side, their precious haul in tow. The twins tumbled down the other, old boards breaking beneath their frantic, grasping fingers, everything disappearing into the murky darkness below.


	19. Chapter 19

Vicente found out about the murky, ice-cold water the hard way; it stung like a slap upside the head when he hit the surface of the pond, and it slithered down his throat when he didn’t close his mouth in time. For a few seconds he lingered in the dark, flailing and choking.

From somewhere up above, a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt and hoisted him upward. The boy sputtered, gasped and cried out as he resurfaced. A part of him wanted to be sent back under. His sister was nowhere to be seen or heard, and neither were the four spirits. And Ofelia…

“Dios mio - Joaquin, Ixa! Over here, now!” Cold, clammy hands pushed his hair out of his eyes and help to force out the last of the foul water. “Vin, can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

It was the last voice he wanted to hear at that moment. His senses told him to jerk away; he tried, but the hand gripped him tighter. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” the voice whispered as the hand patted his hair. “It’s me. It’s Uncle Manolo.”

Suddenly there was a shriek - his mother’s voice - and three more figures descended upon him. “How did he - “

“I don’t know, we just heard a splash. I didn’t see Bry - “

Vicente pulled away from them both, struggling to remain upright. “They took Felia!”

His parents and Ofelia’s all fell silent. “She was with you?” Maria asked. “When?”

“The jaguars took her back!” Vicente continued. “They’ve got her and they’re taking her to that big temple! We have to hurry!”

Manolo stood up. “Can you show us the way?”

“I-I think so…”

“What are you even _doing here?”_ Joaquin sputtered, the first coherent sentence he had managed to form.

“And where’s your sister?” Ixa added.

“Bry can take of herself. We have to go help Felia!” _This is all Bry’s fault anyway, he thought._ That was what he would have liked to believe, at least.

“One of you go look for her,” Maria told Joaquin and Ixa. “The rest of us will take care of Vin.”

“You won’t be able to fight off the pack by yourselves,” Joaquin said.

“We won’t have to,” said Manolo. “We can grab Ofelia and run if we’re lucky.”

“And if you aren’t?”

“We have to go now!” Vicente said, tugging at Manolo’s arm. “Please.”

“…It’s a chance we have to take.” Manolo drew one of his swords and started to follow Vicente, who was already hurrying towards the other side of the pond. “He’ll be safe with us, brother.”

“Make sure he knows he’s grounded.”

“Of course.”

* * *

There was something terrible filling the air as the red moon rose higher. The stench of blood and flesh began to seep out from the ground and the stones of the pyramid, as it might have had back when the carnage was still fresh. Long shadows leapt out from the trees, taking shape and prowling towards the center of the city. The great temple towered above its ruined counterparts, reaching for the sky; the moon and stars behind it formed an ominous silhouette.

Manolo, Maria, Ixa and Vicente darted from one pocket of darkness to another, following the jaguars while trying to keep away from their prying eyes. By now there were several dozen migrating towards the temple. Manolo shuddered as he wondered for the first time just how many there were.

“Do you think they took her this way?” he asked Vicente as he peered out through the doorway of the stout dwelling they had taken momentary refuge in.

The boy bit his lip and followed Manolo’s motions. “I-I thought so…”

“Look out!” Ixa said under her breath, suddenly pulling them both back.

A whole cluster of jaguars rushed past the door barely a moment later, their shadowed forms melting into one terrible, bright-eyed mass. As they ran, something fell from the grasp of one and landed in the dirt. It was small but shiny, even as they crushed it underfoot in their haste.

Manolo froze. The shape, the glint – he would recognize them anywhere. When the pack had gone, he ventured back out into the light and scooped up what remained of the little pair of glasses.

At first it was hard to tell that they’d even been glasses. The frame was bent down the middle and twisted into a sharp, jagged mess. One lens was gone completely, while the other had cracks radiating out from its center and several chunks missing. Even in such a state, however, it was clear to the gathered travelers who they had belonged to.

Ixa gasped as her hands flew to her mouth. Vicente looked away, wrapping his arms around himself. Maria tightened her grip on her sword as she drew in a breath through her teeth. “Alright, the next jaguar that comes near here gets - “

Manolo, who had said nothing, held up a hand to silence her and then brought his finger to his lips. “Listen,” he whispered.

They listened. Padded feet were thudding on the roof of their hiding place and clawing at its walls. Through the flimsy walls came the faint sound of a dozen growls echoing around the room.

Ixa pulled Vicente closer to her. “What do we do now…?”

“Stay back,” Manolo told them both. “You too, Maria.”

“What are you - “

Before she could finish, Manolo had tucked the glasses into his pocket, raised his sword and stepped out into the open.

The jaguars had him surrounded in an instant. They did not pounce upon him, as the mortals had all feared; instead they formed a loose circle around him, watching with smug glints in their yellow eyes even as they kept their distance from his blade.

“Well?” Manolo snapped. “What are you waiting for?”

The largest and most scarred of the group spoke up. “Our master said we are not to harm the mortals yet. He said he was expecting you.”

“I thought so.”

The jaguar glanced at the still-raised sword. “Will you and yours come without resistance or not?”

Manolo let his weapon sink back to his side. “…I just want to see my daughter again.”

“And so you will!”


	20. Chapter 20

They were made to place their weapons in a pile on the ground. When that was done, the jaguars bound their wrists behind their backs and pushed them along, following the rest of the gathering pack. Maria glared at her husband the whole time; Manolo’s own gaze remained carefully trained towards the ground, every once in a while darting up to something tucked within his vest. 

It didn’t take long for the mortals’ presence to be noticed. Jaguars began crowding around for a glimpse of these hated creatures that their master spoke of so often. Some laughed at how pathetic they appeared now. Others leapt forward while gnashing their teeth and swiping their claws inches from flesh. Ixa yelped and kept close to Vicente. Manolo and Maria flinched, but that was all. Their minds were elsewhere. 

By the time the base of the hideous temple came into view, the remainder of the pack had formed a single growling, advancing mass centered around their prisoners. They cried out as though bringing offerings to their master, or to sate the hunger of their future companion. 

At the bottom of the pyramid, with his retinue at his sides, was Pax. He stood upright, a lit torch grasped in his clawed hand. It seemed he had dressed for whatever part he intended to play this night; a long red cape was draped over his shoulders, and colorful beads and jewels hung from his neck. He wore a large headdress adorned with more jewels and the front half of a man’s skull, from which long, deep green feathers spread out in all directions. He had been watching the movement of the moon with a hungry look in his eyes, but when he heard the commotion behind him, he returned his attention to the approaching pack. He smirked as he caught sight of Manolo. 

A thought entered his mind. _But where are the last two? Xibalba’s favorite and the other girl, and those foolish spirits._ He shook his head. They must have been disposed of already, and if not, they were too late to stop him now. 

“I knew you would arrive,” he said to the four mortals, who by now had been herded to the front of the pack and stood a few feet away from him. “Kneel before me.” 

They remained on their feet and glowered at him until his soldiers forced them down. “There,” he said, “much better.” Stepping down from his perch on the temple steps, he approached Manolo, grasped the man’s chin in his hand and jerked his head upward to stare into his eyes. “Don’t you agree?” 

Manolo took a deep breath and tried not to concentrate on the claws pricking his skin. “Don’t do this, Pax.” 

“Are you begging me or warning me?”

“Whichever one you’d like.”

The jaguar sneered at him and chuckled. “Not even your gods have the power to stop me now.”

“I know what you really want,” Manolo said. “Just let her go and you can have my life instead.”

Maria tried scrambling to her feet, but the jaguars held her down and clapped a paw over her mouth.

Manolo tried paying no notice to the muffled protests behind him. “…It’ll be better that way. For all of us.”

The glint in Pax’s eyes flared up as he pulled his lips back and snarled. Grabbing Manolo by the neck, he hoisted him back to his feet and held him dangling just off the ground. “You think the spilling of your worthless blood would pay for all of my kind that you and yours killed that day?” he said. “Or that you could ever be one of my warriors?”

Manolo was gasping for air. “Neither could she - “ 

Pax threw him to the ground, reveling in the cry the human made as he landed. “So many mortals like you would tell me that,” he said, looming over Manolo. “But it was always the purest ones that lost their minds first.”

“My lord!” one of his retinue shouted. “The moon is nearly in position!”

He looked and saw that it was so; the red light was creeping up the side of the temple towards the altar on the top. “Bring the girl forward!” As the group gathered behind him parted, he motioned for Manolo to be restrained again. “A sight of your daughter, as promised.” 

Something was already wrong with her. She walked out from the shadows as though unaware of all gathered around her, one slow footstep after another. Her face was expressionless, as though wiped clean; there was nothing behind the glassy, unblinking eyes. A long, thin, hooded cloak of jaguar fur had been draped over her shoulders, looking as though it would swallow her up. 

Manolo froze. _“Mija?”_ he choked out. _“Mija!_ Ofelia!”

She did not look at him, or even make a sound. 

In an instant he had turned his rage on Pax. “What have you done to her?!?”

‘She is no longer your concern,” the jaguar said. He pointed to a fallen tree trunk nearby. “Tie them up there. They mustn’t be allowed too close.”

Several jaguars immediately descended upon the four mortals, who tried in vain to pull their hands free and land a kick on their captors. Their screams grew louder as they were dragged away from the temple.

Pax paid them no heed; the plan was almost complete now. He started to walk up the temple steps, motioning for the girl to follow him. “You have no need of them anymore, cub. Come along now.” 

Ofelia took a few steps in his direction, but then suddenly halted. Her brows furrowed as she blinked a few times and then withdrew as though beckoned by an invisible force.

The jaguar growled. “Do as I say, child. We haven’t much time.”

Instead she turned back around, stared at the struggling mortals below. A shudder ran through her body, and she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, the haziness had vanished. “…Mama? Papa?”

She remembered barely anything from the moments just after she had let the jaguars take her away; only sharp teeth and claws and trees flying past her in a dark green blur. Somewhere along the way her glasses had fallen off, and then there was truly no chance of seeing anything. All of a sudden she stopped; first she was aware of rough stone against her back, and then of a paw pressing down on her chest to keep her in place. 

“Make her drink this,” a voice said. “We’ll have no trouble with her then.”

She clamped her lips together, determined to keep them that way. A pair of hands reached down and tried to force them apart. She turned her head away, holding in the screams that were building in her throat. But the monsters were cleverer than her. They grabbed her nose and held it shut until she had to gasp for air, then forced a splash of thick, bitter liquid into her mouth. 

She choked. It felt like bugs swarming inside her, smelled like rotten fruit and blood. As soon as it hit the back of her throat, a tingling numbness blossomed there and started to spread through the rest of her body. Her limbs fell asleep one by one, and her eyelids began to feel heavy. There was no use in trying to shout, or even move her jaw. When the fuzziness reached her head, everything faded into darkness.

She was someplace else when she was able to open her eyes again. Someplace better? Too hard to say. The world around her seemed to shimmer like air on a hot day. Dark spots against gold glided past her in every direction; after a moment she was able to make out what they were. More jaguars, a whole cave of them, writhing about in the darkness as they growled to each other in low tones.

The first thought in her head was that she ought to run, but another quickly took its place. _They aren’t going to hurt you,_ it said. _Why would they? You’re one of them._

Was she? 

She looked down at her hands, but found stubby paws instead. It dawned on her how small she had suddenly become, how she was standing on four legs rather than two, how she could feel fur on every inch of her body and a tail swishing behind her.

None of it was right! Or was it? A new feeling was creeping over her, the feeling that things had always been this way.

“Are you well, cub?” It was the voice of Pax. 

She looked up and saw him beside her, yet he did not seem as frightening as he had been before. Instead there was something about him that was warm - fatherly, almost.

“Yes,” she told him, the tone of her voice growing more flat. “Yes, I am well.”

“Good. Now follow me, cub. There are some things we have yet to do.” 

He walked ahead. She followed him, her tiny claws clicking on the rocks underfoot. She thought she remembered some other place, some other faces, but now they all seemed like some distant, quickly fading dream.

_“Mija? Mija! Ofelia! What have you done to her?!?”_

She stopped. Where had that voice come from? It sounded familiar somehow. And what was the name he had spoken? She thought she had heard that before, too. 

_“She is no longer your concern.”_ That was her master’s voice, but it seemed faint and far away. _“Tie them up there. They mustn’t be allowed too close.”_ What was he talking about? Who did he mean?

She winced as her ears filled with screaming, more anguished than before. They were weeping and begging, whoever they were. And they kept saying that strange name over and over. _Ofelia, Ofelia. Come back, Ofelia._

“You have no need of them anymore, cub,” Pax said to her. “Come along now.”

“But who are they?” she asked. “What do they want?” Part of her seemed to already know the answer to that - it was her they called out for. 

Something was wrong with her eyes, or perhaps something was wrong with the world around her. Shapes and colors were blurring together. She thought she saw the walls of the cave beginning to crack and tear, and that new shapes and colors were spilling in to overtake the old.

_It’s not real,_ she realized. _None of this is real._

And then she remembered.

“Do as I say, child. We haven’t much time.” Pax was towering over her now, growing angry. The jaguars growled in low tones as they stalked forward, surrounding her, forcing her deeper into their master’s clutches.

_“No!”_ she shouted, and the whole world shattered like glass. Suddenly she was a girl again, standing on the steps of one of those pyramids with the jaguars all around her and her family just out of reach.

“Mama? Papa?” Even with her poor eyes, she could make out their forms.

Her father cried out again at the sound of her voice. For a moment he threw off the jaguar dragging him away and moved as though to run towards her, but then a whole mass of the creatures leapt on him and pulled him back. 

“Papa!” she shouted and tried to leap down the stone steps. She screamed in anger and kicked as Pax snatched her out of the air and held her aloft.

“Kill the mortals!” the jaguar said, beginning to ascend the temple steps with haste. “I shall take charge of the - “

A gunshot rang out. Pax yowled in pain and collapsed, holding his arm. He dropped Ofelia, who sprang back to her feet and ran towards the trees when the jaguars’ backs were turned.

Everyone’s back was turned by now, staring on in shock. Joaquin simply blew the smoke from the barrels of his shotgun, reloaded it and took aim. “Alright, which of you is next?”

With a shout, Manolo struggled free from the jaguars pinning him down and leapt to his feet. The bonds around his wrists were frayed by now; he broke them with a single jerk, whipped out the knife he had hidden in his vest and slashed the face of the first monster that pounced at him.

The rest of the group that had attacked rushed towards him, but halted and retreated as another figure came running out from behind him. It was Maria, yelling curses as she brandished a sword. The monsters fled, but not before she felled one of them with a blow to the neck that stained the shimmering blade with dark blood.

For half a second, Manolo was too confused to be angry. “How did you - “

_“Hola,_ Uncle Manolo!”

He turned and saw Gabriela with a smile on her face, a sack of the discarded weapons from before at her side and a wide-eyed bird perched on her shoulder. She had freed Ixa and Vicente as well, both of them already hurrying towards Joaquin. Now she held out a sword - the conquistador’s sword, the one with the rosary on the handle.

“Papa said this one was yours,” she told him. “Well?”

He looked back. The only thing between him and his daughter now was a wall of snarling, bloodthirsty beasts - it almost didn’t seem fair to them.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the sword, raised it over his head and charged.


	21. Chapter 21

A small green head poked out of the pocket on Vicente’s vest and peered around. “Now what?” said Zuma.

“I should be asking you that,” the boy answered. “And how did you find us, anyway?”

“Miss Gabriela said something about a sister’s intuition,” said the frog. “And she said you would have a plan. So I ask you again, _now what?”_

“Er…” Vicente tried to see through the mass of fur and flailing claws, searching for a glimpse of his friend. There! A yellow dress and a head of familiar dark curls hiding in the branches of a tree. “We get to where Felia is and get out of here!” he said, raising his sword.

A hand grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Not by yourself, you aren’t,” said his father.

“Come on, then!” Wrenching himself free, Vicente took off towards the far side of the battlefield, dodging jaguars as he went.

For a moment Joaquin could only linger behind and marvel at his son, before realizing how far away he was getting. “Hey, wait up…!

* * *

Huitzil soared above the ground, trying to get a view from the air as Gabriela had told him to. Any other mortals would surely have fallen to Pax’s army by now. But the jaguars’ ranks were thinning; a great many were being felled by the two dark-haired ones, Ofelia’s mother and father, and those who escaped the sword were now fleeing for their lives. Even Metnal was doing her part, jumping at the faces of the slower ones. A rare sight indeed.

Two screams from below got his attention. One of the nastier brutes had Gabriela and her mother backed up against a rock; they were holding him back with their blades, but he was getting ready to pounce all the same.

Before he could stop and think, Huitzil was flying downwards as fast as his wings could carry him. _“Miss Gabriela!”_

The jaguar was too focused on the prize in front of him to realize where the harsh screeches were coming from, or that they were steadily growing louder. He tumbled over when Huitzil barreled into him, and when he tried to get up, a number of sharp pecks from the bird’s beak knocked him down again. A deep stab from Ixa sent him scrambling off with his tail between his legs, yowling all the way.

“And _stay there!”_ Huitzil shouted after him, stomping the ground for good measure. Immediately he burst into manic laughter. “Seven hundred years I’ve been alive and I’ve never had such fun! Never!”

Gabriela had a wide, gaping smile plastered across her face. “Think you can do it again?”

“Absolutely perhaps!”

* * *

Driven away by a mortal and a potoo - how shameful. Pax would have had half a mind to kill the wretched creature himself, had he been able to think straight.

“Cowards!” he screamed at his fleeing soldiers, trying in vain to make himself heard. “What are these mortals capable of that you are not?”

He got his answer when he noticed a flash of light in the corner of his eye and saw the sword Manolo was holding. _No…no! Impossible!_

But it could not have been any other blade - the sudden aching of the scars he’d received from it last time attested to that. He had tossed it away, left it to be forgotten alongside the remains of its last wielder. How had the mortal come across it?

There was no time for wondering. The girl - she had run for the trees, hadn’t she? He had to find the girl and finish the ceremony. The mortal’s spirit would be broken if he could manage that.

Ducking out of the fray, he ran in the direction she had gone. The scent of her fear was still in his nostrils; he would find her before long.

* * *

“Ofelia!” Joaquin shouted as he and Vicente skidded to a stop at the bottom of the tree. “Ofelia, it’s us!”

The girl looked down, still clinging to the trunk as she sat curled up on a thick branch. “Uncle Joaquin?”

“Jump down and I’ll catch you!” he answered.

“But - “

“You can trust me!”

Several agonizing seconds passed before she made a move. She detached herself from the tree trunk, stood up on shaking legs, held out her arms to keep her balance and finally stepped off the branch.

It all happened so fast after that: for only a moment she was falling through the air, and then something she could barely see but recognized all the same slammed into her from the side, pinning her between his jaws as he landed on the ground and kept running.

Pax paid no mind to the two mortals now chasing after him, or to the screaming girl in his mouth. He flew up the steps of the temple, his eyes on the altar and the rising moon. It wasn’t quite in position - yes, there would be enough time.

He dropped Ofelia onto the altar and pressed a paw to her chest to keep her from escaping. The chains attached to the corners of the stone were rusted, but they held firm when he tugged on them. There was no chance she would budge them.

Beneath his paw, the girl hadn’t stopped struggling. She yelled, kicked, pulled her hands away when he tried to grab them. “Keep still!” he growled, managing to lash only one wrist to the altar.

Ofelia glared back at him. “I will _never_ do as you say.”

He looked skyward. The moon’s ray would hit the altar any minute now. His work was done. “Before long,” he said with a grin, “you’ll have no choice.”

And that was when something leapt on him from behind, sinking its claws into his back and its teeth into his neck.

Teoxi held on as tight as he could as the jaguar yowled in pain, clawed at his foe and stumbled around trying to throw him off. _I’m going to regret this even if I live,_ he thought. The sight of Ofelia sitting up, already trying to wrench her chained wrist free, reminded him otherwise. _I suppose this makes us even._

Pax tripped, and the two of them went tumbling down the steps of the temple in a flurry of dust and blood.

The manacle wouldn’t budge - perhaps Pax had locked it with some sort of magic. The chain stayed attached to the rock as well, no matter how hard Ofelia pulled against it. _“Help!”_ she screamed, but her voice was lost in the rest of the noise. “Help…”

“Felia!” And suddenly there was Vicente, out of breath but still helping her pull with all his might. “Harder! I think it’s moving!”

“Hurry!”

Pax pulled himself back to his feet. The weakened ocelot was still hanging from his shoulders: ripping it off, he tossed it aside and watched it collapse in a crumpled heap. The girl! He had to finish securing the girl…

He turned around just in time to see the moonbeams strike the altar and bathe the whole clearing in bloody light.

Everything froze in the blink of an eye. Mortals and jaguars alike fell silent. Some shielded their eyes from the glare, while others couldn’t pull their eyes away from it. The scattered beams glowed and pulsed for seconds that seemed to last an eternity, and then they cut out just as quickly as they had appeared. The ugly silence remained.

Manolo was vaguely aware of Maria being the first to move again, falling to her knees and weeping. He could feel himself letting the sword slip from his fingers as he rushed up the temple steps, ignoring the sound of Ixa yelling at him to stay back. When Pax’s paw came sweeping at him, he barely felt the pain that shot through his nerves when he landed on the rough steps.

The jaguar towered over him, leering. “And to think that you were so close.” A clawed hand grabbed his neck and began to squeeze. “I would let her have the honor of this, but I’ve been waiting far longer - “

_“You stay away from my papa!”_

Pax dropped the mortal as he whirled around. “What?”

There she stood, human as ever, the fur cloak discarded and the broken chain still dangling from her wrist. Her eyes blazed as they found Pax’s, and her hands were steady as she hurled a piece of rubble at him. It struck the jaguar right in the face, knocking him backwards.

He regained his footing, let out a roar of rage, prepared to pounce. He never got the chance. A burning pain shot into his back, shuddered through his organs and muscles and burst out the front of his chest in a ray of gleaming metal.

Manolo pushed his sword deeper into the jaguar’s flesh, feeling the life drain out of the monster. Its flailing slowed, its screams became faint gasps and gurgles that eventually stopped. The body slumped forward, and a kick from Manolo sent it sliding back down the temple steps.

The jaguar army recoiled as the corpse landed before them. They dispersed in a frightened mass, vanishing into the trees and bushes, leaving the shocked mortals behind.

Manolo felt his wits gradually returning to him. He looked down at his hands - covered in blood, just like his clothes and the temple steps. But not like the moon, he realized when he looked up. The moon was a soft, milky white once again, its light shining down on Ofelia as she descended to meet him.

“Papa?” she said.

It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and all he could do in response was take her in his arms and let the tears he had been holding back finally fall.

Vicente and Gabriela approached their parents with caution. “So,” the latter began, “are we still grounded?”

Joaquin looked from his children to the scene before him and back again. “We’ll…talk about it.”


	22. Chapter 22

They all made their way out of Tehuantepec as soon as they could. They might have spent the night where they were in safety, but each traveler thought to themselves that they would rather take the risk than stay in the ruined city another moment. A few miles away they set up a fire and tended to their wounds.

Teoxi was alive, though quite battered and needing to be carried. “I’ll be fine before long,” he said, brushing off the mortals’ concerns. “We all heal quickly.” That didn’t stop Ofelia from keeping him in her arms as though he were one of the strays in San Angel, which he grumbled about under his breath but would not object to.

The spirits all crowded Manolo; Huitzil in particular wouldn’t stop dancing around shouting “We are free, we are free!” The famous chosen one of Xibalba was just as bold as they had imagined him to be, as were his peers. Seeing how dazed her companions were, Ixa did most of the talking. “It will be easier for me anyway,” she said.

“And why is that?” Zuma asked.

“I used to come here when the flowers were in bloom.”

_“That’s_ where I’ve seen you before!” Huitzil said. “Say, weren’t you all blue and shimmery back then?”

Metnal was the one to suggest guiding the mortals home. “Following the line of magic will take you back to your town,” she said. “We can show you the way as far as the jungle’s edge. From there the path is clear.”

_“Gracias,”_ Maria said. “Is there anything we can do for you?”

The coati shook her head. “Ridding us of Pax is more than enough.”

Now they were all waiting for daybreak. Joaquin and the spirits were keeping watch, while the women and the twins had fallen asleep. Manolo wished he could join them; he was certainly tired enough. Ofelia was lying down with her head on his leg, and he stroked her hair as he looked up at the sky. He wondered if sleep was evading her as it was him.

He got his answer when she rolled over and sat up. “Are you alright, Papa?”

“You don’t need to be worrying about me,” he said with a weak smile.

“But it’s my fault that you - “

“No.” He pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “None of this is your fault, _mija_. It’s mine if anything. I could feel something was about happen and I still couldn’t tell you how worried I was. I didn’t trust you the way I should have. Blame me.”

“I could feel something, too…” She buried her face in his chest.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright,” he said. “Soon we’ll be back in San Angel, with your brother and your _abuelo_ and everyone else.”

Ofelia lifted her head. “I’ve been wondering something.”

“What is it?”

“What would you and Mama have done if I hadn’t gotten away at the last second? If I had…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Manolo couldn’t help smiling a bit. “ _Ay, mija_. I know exactly what I would have done. I would have taken you back home and cared for you as well as I could.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he answered. “You’ll always be my little girl, no matter what.”

For the first time since leaving the city, she began to relax. “…I love you, Papa.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you too.”

They said no more after that. They were finally safe enough to sleep.

* * *

Manolo leaned back in his chair. “And that’s all you need to know.”

Xibalba seemed to be running several things over in his mind at once. “That’s all true?”

“As far as I know.”

“And the girl’s fine, then?”

“Yes.”

The god scowled. “Then why did you keep me here for so long?”

Manolo raised an eyebrow. “Is that all you took away from this?”

“You punched me when I came in!”

“So would most people.”

“You made it sound like she was dead!”

“I never said she was.”

“Then why were you so upset?”

Manolo fixed his gaze on the older man. “You think I can just move on from all of that right away?” he said, lowering his voice. “You think I haven’t spent each night since then wondering what could have happened?”

Xibalba looked away and didn’t answer.

Manolo sighed. “Maybe that’s just a mortal thing.”

“…It isn’t.”

The younger man looked out the window. “I told you the story so you would understand how we all felt. So you can tell everyone in Aztlan exactly what I want them to know.”

“Which is…?”

“That I didn’t kill Pax to spite them or you or anyone else. I did it for her.”

The doors suddenly swung open, startling both men. Manolo relaxed as he saw two small figures stride into the room and head for a nearby bookcase. “ _Hola_ , Vicente. You two need help finding something?”

“We’re fine, Papa,” Ofelia said, adjusted her new glasses before starting to pull books off the bottom shelf. “Vin, can you hold these? Mama was saying the orphanage doesn’t have enough books and I know I have some old ones they could use,” she added, talking to her father.

“A fine endeavor,” said Xibalba with a nod.

Ofelia slid back down to the floor and looked at the disguised god. Her brows furrowed as faint sparks of recognition flitted across her face. _“Hola, señor._ Have I seen you in town before?”

“No, I’m just passing through,” he answered. “Just leaving, as a matter of fact. You could say I’m a friend of your father’s.”

He wasn’t sure how, but the girl seemed to understand his true meaning. “It was nice of you to visit,” she said as she was walking away. She disappeared down the hall, Vicente following her with a pleased expression and a pile of books nearly as tall as he was.

Xibalba found himself smiling. “Nice girl. You’re lucky, Sanchez.”

“I know.”

The god stood up, letting his red pupils shine through his disguise. “You know,” he said, “not everyone in Aztlan tolerates kids as much as I do. They won’t see it as an excuse.”

“I can imagine.”

“That doesn’t freak you out?”

Manolo gestured to the fireplace on the far side of the room. Above the mantle, a faintly glowing sword with a crucifix tied to its handle hung from the wall. “If any of them come looking for trouble,” he said, “I’ll be waiting.”


End file.
